


By Design - Stony AU

by Numina, Rini2012, TobiBooneTheSmallSpoone



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Art Student Steve, Asshole Exes, Awkward meeting, Background Jane/Thor, Blowjobs, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Bucky has a garage, Bucky still has 1 arm, But everyone is friends, Cars, Cerebro, College, College Student Steve Rogers, Coming Out, Dancing, Deaf Clint Barton, F/M, Fingering, First Date, First Time, Fluff, Gender Dysphoria, Happy Ending, Homophobia, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Kidnapping, M/M, Mariah Stark Gala, Masturbation, Misgendering, Missionary, Non-powered AU, Obadiah Stane is an Asshole, Ransom Money, Rescue, Rough Sex, Slow Burn, Small Steve Rogers, Smut, Soulmates, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve gets to be a nurse, Steve x Tony - Freeform, Stony - Freeform, Strap on sex, Telepathy, Testosterone shots, Thor is Adorable, Tony has a long list of previous partners, Tony has a scandal, Torture, Transphobia, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Sex, Wade Wilson Being an Asshole, Wade Wilson is a hero, X-Men Movie appearances, X-Men help, asshole paparazzi, bucky has ptsd, but Steve can't get pregnant, but they act like the comics, car crash, dildo, kick ass assistant Natasha, proposal, scary assassin Natasha, teaming up, trans!Steve Rogers - Freeform, veteran bucky barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 19:05:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 92,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19179535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Numina/pseuds/Numina, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rini2012/pseuds/Rini2012, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TobiBooneTheSmallSpoone/pseuds/TobiBooneTheSmallSpoone
Summary: Tony Stark doesn't believe he has a Romantic Soulmate. He has two amazing Platonic Soulmates, so why would he think he had a Romantic Soulmate?Steve Rogers is happy with just having Bucky as his Platonic Soulmate. He doesn't want to actively search for something he might not have, and he's happy with that.However, fate puts them together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There may still be changes made because mistakes, but please be respectful of this story. This actually is the story that helped me figure out I'm genderfluid, and I want to thank everyone involved for helping me with this story.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony Stark has a brand new car, and he needs a design. His assistant Natasha Barnes has someone in mind.

Tony Stark had given up on Romantic Soulmates when he was 30. He had amazing Platonic Soulmates in Rhodey and Pepper, and a few good friendships in the workplace. Sure, 85% of the world usually find their Platonic Soulmates, and Tony had found  _ two _ , so why the hell would he think he’d even have a Romantic Soulmate? Answer: he didn’t. That’s why when he turned 30, he started partying more. True, he’d slept with a couple people prior to that, men and women, but he started to just live at 30. Playboy Billionaire Inventor, that’s what they called him now.

Now at 39, he was just fine. Going from one amicable hook-up to the next, no muss no fuss, had started to get a little lonely, but he didn’t mind. This was his life, and he accepted it. And his love right now was his brand new car. It was a BMW 3 Series in jet black, only driven off the lot to Stark Tower where it was in his garage/workshop. However, it seemed a bit bland. He needed a good design for it, and he didn’t have an artistic bone in his body.

He bolted down the newly refitted housing onto his precision welding robot, hopeful that the change would cut down on vibrations, and that the work would give him some design ideas. Something dynamic, but with heart, to break up the blank canvas of his newest toy.

_ “Ms. Barnes entering the Workshop, Sir.” _ Jarvis announced.

And on cue, in walked Natasha Barnes, his new PA. Natasha enjoyed her job since it took her far away from the battlefield and close to home, but there were some habits that drove her up the wall. Including right now where Tony skipped out on his 1:30 meeting to work on a robot. She had a look of murder on her face as she walked in.

“Agent Orange,” He hailed her cheekily. “To what do I owe?”

“You missed your meeting with the Board of Directors about the expansion.” She answered. “And you were supposed to advise if the tech company they were investing in was worth $1.8 million.”

“Well, in the first place, I wouldn’t characterize my absence as missing anything, I felt no sort of sentimental longing for it at all, and really,” He shrugged, stubbing his thumb with the screwdriver and sucking the tip briefly before continuing his ramble. “I looked at the numbers and realized that the real difference in whether that company would be worth 1.8 is whether or not we decided to invest in it so, they didn’t need me there anyway.” He backpedaled away from the robot as Nat kept advancing on him.

She just cocked an eyebrow at him, clearly not buying his bullshit.

“ _ You _ ran the numbers, or Jarvis?” She asked.

“I built Jarvis. So… “ He retreated to the soda fountain at the corner of the workshop and opened the beer fridge. “You want one?”

“I don’t drink on the job.” And obviously eyed the still blank car. “You haven’t decided on a design yet?”

He put the beer away unopened. “No I haven’t decided on a design yet.”

Tony leaned back against the wall with his arms crossed. It was really getting under his skin more than he’d realized. He actually hated the idea of that empty black expanse on the precision luxury car he was looking forward to driving and working on for the next fistful of decades. It had seemed like exactly what he wanted when he received it as a gift and yet looking into the pristine black panels was like staring into his own mortality. He hated that kind of heavy crap, and it annoyed him that it was coming from his own head for once.

“You know, I know a shop that could do a good design.”

Tony made a face. “I don’t know. All the places in Manhattan are so overdone, you know?”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing that it’s in Brooklyn.” She said with a smirk.

He opened his mouth and closed it again, for once unable to argue.

“I guess it is.”

“My brother Bucky owns a garage, he’s one of the best mechanics in the city and also does paint jobs. His customer reviews are usually fantastic.”

“Cool, set it up.”

“But you’ll actually have to go to Brooklyn for the consultation. Bucky likes actually getting to know clients if he does a paint job commission.”

Tony groaned like an annoyed teenager. “Can’t you just tell him how great I am, how I’ve got awesome cars he’ll want to look at, how I’m totally a fellow gearhead and man of the people? I don’t want to go out.”

“Nope. He wants to get it absolutely right, and prides himself on the customer reviews. And who knows, you might actually like talking to him. He’s a pretty funny and nice guy.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You know I hate nice. I bet he’s not, anyway.”

He picked up a rag and started wiping down the robot’s new housing, wondering what the point of being able to customize his world was if he still had to go out into the other, less-user-friendly one so often.

“You’d be surprised.”

He puttered and put his wrenches back into their case in order. “Nuh uh,” He grunted pettily. “In fact I already don’t like him. That’s your fault. You did that.” He tried not to smirk, grateful that Natasha never needed him to smile just to show that he was making fun of himself. “Jarvis is the GT350 gassed up?”

_ “Yes Sir.” _

“Good. I guess I’m going out.”

Natasha gave him the address, Tony got in his car, and headed to Brooklyn.

**_***_ **

Tony resented what a beautiful day it was for a drive, even in the city. One more thing he wouldn’t be able to guilt his assistant about later. In the spirit of roughing it, he went without his GPS, so he actually had to look for the place the old fashioned way once he got to the neighborhood. 

The garage was an unassuming brick facade with two overhead doors onto the street and a couple of shuttered windows on a second-floor apartment. All of them were open to let in the unusually pleasant breeze, and Tony could see the words “Barnes Bodyworks” in flaked paint above the office door, as well as a custom neon sign burning bright blue on the shadowed back wall. He parked in the lone space outside and strolled towards the nearest opening, detecting some movement within.

Bucky had been warned about Tony Stark giving the shop a visit. Natasha had texted him, and said that Stark was a bit hard to work with, but he was a fellow fan of bodywork and engine work. He exited the office when he saw a very nice GT350 pull up, and put on his best customer service smile. Clint was working on one of the other cars that had been dropped off.

“Welcome to Barnes Bodywork.” Bucky said.

“Hey man.” Tony stuck out his hand and hoped that the grease under his manicure bought him some real-guy cred. “I assume you’ve been warned. Natasha’s nothing if not a double-agent.” 

Bucky laughed and shook his hand. “You have no idea.”

Tony felt his own smile go a little lopsided at the strength behind the handshake, but took it as a good sign that Bucky wasn’t trying to macho-crush him. He noticed the pinned-up sleeve on the other side, limp all the way to the shoulder, and glanced away before he could have been thought of as staring (he hoped).  

“So, come into my office, let’s talk designs.” Bucky said as he lead the way to the back office, and did notice Tony looking at the lack of arm.

The office wasn’t anything special. It was an eggshell white brick office with some filing cabinets, 2 couches, and a desk. There were a few pictures hung on the walls, as well as some artwork by his friend, who he knew he’d have to talk to about the design. Bucky sat on one of the couches and gestured for Stark to do the same. He pulled out a legal pad, balanced it on his knee, and got a pen.

“So what kind of car are you wanting to paint?”

Tony pulled a picture out of his pocket, proud as a new parent, and held it up for Bucky, beaming. Bucky’s eyes widened and he whistled, impressed.

“Damn, that’s one of the new Luxury models. Didn’t even think they were out yet.”

Tony shrugged with disingenuous humility. “Technically they’re not. I’m kind of an ‘influencer’ in tech toy circles.” He heard himself and laughed a little. “It’s really just a euphemism for ‘rich asshole’.”

“Ever so humble.” Bucky snarked as he wrote down the model of the car. “What kind of design were you looking for?”

Tony tic’d his head to one side, grimacing earnestly. “That’s part of the problem. I don’t even know. I mean, it’s a gorgeous car, drives like a dream. But the thing I like about it is that it’s actually deceptively light and streamlined for how powerful the engine is. If you looked at it you wouldn’t think it was packing the new BMW-Stark overcharge engine. And I just… I have no idea how to show that in design.”

Tony tried not to squirm. He didn’t want to intimidate this guy with just how much this project meant to him. Beyond his own convictions as a futurist, beyond his most deeply-held hopes for the image of clean energy as something plausible and cool as hell, the design issue was immediately personal. 

Obadiah Stane, his father’s old partner, had singled out Tony’s new toy as the latest proxy-war in his passive-aggressively public dick-swinging contest with Tony. The condescending old fossil always had something to say about Tony’s life and tastes, overstepping his self-appointed role as surrogate father figure at every opportunity. But since Tony had been flying under the radar for a while, Stane had apparently chosen to dog whistle about the viability of the “alternative energy lifestyle” to the press. 

Bucky nodded in understanding. Sometimes he’d get customers asking for paint jobs but not knowing what they wanted. That’s why he preferred to meet face to face when doing a paint job consultation in case they could talk the design out.

“Are there certain elements you wanna show in the design? I heard it’s a green energy car.”

Tony squirmed. “Elegance? Futurism? Yeah, this is why I can’t even get my head around it. I need a real artist.”

“Well lucky for you, I have a guy I commission for things like this. He’ll be able to scrap a few sketches together for your approval.”

“Great!” He said, way louder than he’d meant to, the word propelled by a sigh of relief. “That’s great. Let me know as soon as you’ve got something to show me. What do I owe you for the consult?” He held up his hand as Bucky held out his notepad for Tony to take his photo back. “Keep the picture, I have dozens.” 

Bucky had a feeling he should be worried that Stark had dozens of photos of the car, but he put it off to being involved with the new engine. So he put the photo and legal pad on his desk.

“I do free consultations in case people think Barnes Bodyworks isn’t for them. It’d be pretty shitty to charge someone for something they didn’t end up using. Do you have a price range in mind for the paint job?”

Tony shook his head. “For the right design, the sky’s the limit. Tell your guy that, too.”

“I will. Make sure to bring the car in as soon as you approve the sketches. Sooner we get the painting done, the better.”

Tony reached out for a final handshake, his gaze flicking to the empty sleeve again, and an idea appeared in his head.

“So, hey, none of my damn business at all, just throwing it out there: if you ever want to come consult on stuff for my company, I got an R&D department that you might like.”

“Just ask about the arm, I don’t care.”

Tony blushed bright pink. “Not like that, I just meant, if you ever wanted to tool around with designs for a replacement, you’d have a free hand - I mean free reign.”

He dropped Bucky’s hand and closed his eyes with an exasperated sigh at himself. It always astonished him how, despite being the cucumber-cool man-with-everything, he managed to turn into a babbling wreck on the rare occasion that there was something he actually  _ wanted _ that he couldn’t just create for himself.

“Thanks, but I’ve tried the robot prosthetics before. Not really helpful in my line of work.”

“No no, sure, of course. I get that. I’m just saying. We’ve got micro servos and ultralight polymers. It’s candyland. If you ever want. I can just tell you’re legit, you know? My engineers could probably learn a lot from a gear head that’s really lived the problem. That’s all I meant.” He paused heavily and added. “Sorry.”

Bucky eyed him suspiciously for a moment. Nat had told him about how Stark was secretly a philanthropist, but he never imagined that the man would just offer to make him an arm. He could be doing so much more than just helping a guy like Bucky.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Bucky said as he showed Stark out of the office. “The sketches should be ready by this weekend. I’ll give you a call when you can come in and approve them.”

Tony pulled out his card. “Here’s my private number. Not that you probably don’t have it already. Because Natasha.” He grinned.

Bucky took the card and put it in the pocket of his stained jeans. “I didn’t until this moment.”

Tony nodded. “Ok. Great.”

He got in his car and fled.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to follow me on twitter and Instagram. Both are under the user @roryqpotter


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets commissioned to do Tony's car design, and discovers something huge from drawing a rough sketch.

Steve Rogers didn’t think he had a Romantic Soulmate. He’d found the best friend he could ever have in Bucky, and he didn’t exactly do well when it came to dating due to his small size and medical issues, ranging from a partially deaf ear, to poor eyesight, and even asthma. Plus he was too focused on finishing his final year of college to even consider actively searching for a Romantic Soulmate.

As he did after school every day, he got out of the train at the Brooklyn Station, and the creepy dude that was always there catcalled him. And boy was that dude  _ ugly _ , like his entire body was wrinkles and dead skin.

“Hey! There’s my favorite snack cake! What’s up today, twinkie?”

As per usual, Steve ignored him and went up to street level. He never knew what this guy’s endgame was, but calling him any variation of a ‘twink’ was not getting him anywhere.

When he passed the tech store 4 blocks from the apartment, he saw a few people standing around the TVs in the window. There was a breaking news report from Tennessee where the X-Men were fighting a giant blob… thing. Apparently they almost had the thing neutralized, which surprised no one as the X-Men were fantastic at their job.

Steve made the quick walk to the garage Bucky owned, and went around to the back to go up to the apartment. He and Bucky shared the apartment above Barnes Bodyworks to cut down on living costs on both their ends, and Bucky didn’t exactly need to leave the building for work every day. The apartment was a studio layout with bare brick walls, a semi-old flat screen on a bookshelf, a couch, a small kitchen corner with a breakfast bar, the bathroom next to that, a semi-decent wood table with chairs, and Steve’s bed in a corner in front of the door, which was on the right side of the layout. Bucky agreed to let Steve have the bed because of Steve’s scoliosis, so the couch fold-out bed was Bucky’s.

For Steve’s last birthday, Bucky had surprised him with a full on drawing desk with a pull up top, and that was in between two windows facing outward from the door. Then the wall next to the door had a small wooden end table, and multiple pictures from both Bucky and Steve’s pasts. It always made him feel a bit better seeing a picture of his ma and pa after a hard day of classes.

He sat down his school portfolio, and went to the fridge to get some juice. However, he was stopped by a sticky note on the door that said,

_ ‘Got another commission. Come downstairs for details’ _

Well, at least there’d be a bit of extra money in his bank account. Steve made his way back downstairs and saw Bucky working on the engine of a car, and Clint was eating a sandwich next to the radio. Clint gave him an upward nod and mumbled something congenial around a mouthful of tuna on rye.

“Chew and swallow.” Steve taunted as he went up to Bucky.

Clint grinned. “I’m multitasking.”

Bucky looked up. He’d been trying all afternoon to decide how to present the job to Steve. It was probably the biggest offer the garage had ever gotten, and was definitely more than Steve had taken on before. It was always a struggle trying to balance his overweening protectiveness of his best friend with acknowledging Steve’s maturity. He’d just known him too long, and how stressed out he was with school as it was. 

“Hey pal, how was your day?”

“Nothing special. Just more over-long lectures.” Steve said as he got a stool. “So what’s the commission you’re having me do?”

“Your day’s about to get special!” Clint laughed, turning down the radio.

Bucky gave him a look, straightened, and wiped off his hand on the towel station by the workbench.

“I had a conversation with a tech company rep today. They got this fancy brand new car and want something sophisticated and futuristic to show it off.”

He pulled the photo from his pocket and handed it over. He wasn’t lying. Technically.

Steve looked at the photo and  _ immediately _ recognized it as the car BMW and Stark Industries worked on. He was shocked that Stark Industries reached out to Bucky for this paint job, and felt a bit overwhelmed about the prospect of doing a design for them.

“Stark Industries wants you to do a design? Wants  _ me _ to do a design on the brand new hybrid they built?”

Bucky shrugged. “They were putting out some feelers, yeah. I got the rec through Natasha, since she’s working over there now. I just figured since your design work for that motorcycle club last month was so amazing, you might want to take a crack at something as big as your talent.”

“I think you’re overselling me a bit, Buck. The Howling Commandos were my dad’s unit, it was just a favor.”

Bucky grinned. “Then do me a couple sketches as a favor and I’ll keep all the money when you blow them away.”

Steve groaned and handed the picture back. Damn Bucky for knowing his need for a bigger paycheck.

Clint played along. “You should do it, Steve. I’m gonna need to borrow money from Bucky soon, so it would help if you make him rich first.”

“Okay! I get it!” Steve said, and decided to get down to business. “Did they have anything specific in mind?”

“Not much. Just said the sky’s the limit, and they wanted something elegant but also reflective of a sense of futurism. My notes are over on the bench. I think they wanted to find great local artists and give them a free hand to wow them.”

“Didn’t think Nat had that much of an influence at Stark Industries.” Steve said as he picked up the notes.

There wasn’t much in terms of what the client wanted. Bucky even wrote ‘doesn’t know what he wants’, but a few adjectives were put down, as well as the engine for the car. Steve would definitely have to do some research on the arc-reactor to get this right (not keen on homework outside of school). He got out his phone and wrote down the important parts about the design itself, then put the notes down.

“When do you need it done?”

Bucky shrugged. “Soon as you’ve got something to show.” He glanced over at Clint. “Hey man, could you go get something put together for dinner? I have to finish up here and Steve has some work to do.”

Clint made a face but hopped down off the bench. “Yes my lord. Anything you say my lord.”

Steve just shook his head. Sure, Nat was dating Clint, but when did that mean bickering like actual brothers? Steve stretched his back, his binder digging in a bit, and said,

“Let me know when Clint comes back with food. I should get started on a few concept sketches.”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded. “no pressure.”

With a nod, Steve went to the back of the building and up the stairs to the apartment. He had an idea, but it didn’t seem that good. Just putting the arc reactor on the side of a car didn’t seem that ‘elegant’. Once inside the apartment, Steve got the juice he wanted and checked his texts. There were some texts from his classmate Thor, son of a Norwegian diplomat who was in his Art History class, asking to meet up sometime this weekend. Maybe talking to him a bit would help get his mind going. Steve hit the call button on Thor’s contact and waited for him to answer.

“Steve! There you are!”

Steve knew that Thor didn’t exactly control his voice well, which was why he always used his left ear that didn’t hear well when he called, and took out the hearing aid when that occurred.

“Hey Thor. Sorry I didn’t respond sooner.” He said as he got out a sketchbook, pencils, and headed to the couch.

“Not a problem my friend! Did you make it home safe?”

“Yes. Encountered creepy catcalling guy again, but it’s fine.”

“Have you got any weekend plans? Some of us-.” His voice cut to a muffled and distant echo for a moment, as if addressing someone wherever he was. “-sorry, some of us were thinking of an evening out.”

Steve wasn’t really paying attention to his sketching, and thought for a moment. Well, he didn’t exactly have a large amount to do for classes, and he’d have 3 days to work on the sketches. He could use a bit of time out with friends.

“I can probably make it. Where did you have in mind?”

“Well, we were thinking-.” He muffled out again, loudly enough that Steve caught a “so help me” in the mix. “Sorry. Loki’s being… typical. As I was saying before I-.” His voice turned away slightly bt in a clear stage-projected tone, “-vowed to duct-tape him to the ceiling if he doesn’t stop that right now!” He returned to his normal over-loud tone. “We were thinking of going hiking, but wanted to see how you were feeling first. There’s also the park. Maybe play some extreme frisbee.”

“And you picked those plans because Jane’s going, didn’t you?”

Thor laughed. “No!” but he was quieter.

“It’s either drink like a fish or be outside with you, and Jane doesn’t like the first one.”

Thor had found his soulmate years before he’d met Steve. Jane Foster was an Astronomy major and was totally enraptured by Thor’s tales from Norwegian mythos. Steve thought it was adorable, and knew there was nothing Thor wouldn’t do for that woman.

“I prefer to think I drink like a handsome and charismatic dolphin. Or possibly a narwhal.”

Steve laughed hard and almost dropped his pencils. “Tell that to the last time Bucky threw a party, Mr. ‘I AM THE GOD OF THUNDER AND CONTROL ELECTRICITY IN SOCKETS!’”

“That would have worked if Loki hadn’t attached a ground to my ankle.” He said, the pride in his voice crumpling prettily, like shiny wrapping paper. 

“The one time he was actually right in a situation.” And Steve could hear the bastard in the background. “What’s he doing that’s pissing you off?”

“He’s mad about his bank allowance and keeps calling father impersonating my voice trying to get an advance.”

“Maybe if he stopped spending it all on designer clothes, he would have some for basic things like food.”

Thor snorted. “Maybe if I break his phone over his head it would be a moot point.”

“If you do it, make sure to film it. I’ll send it to Bucky and Sam so they can get a laugh out of it.”

“Hah! Good idea. I’ll set his phone to send video directly to mine and use that!” He chuckled ominously, probably for Loki’s benefit. It was mostly for show. Thor was probably the gentlest person Steve had ever met, he just had a mouth as big as his biceps.

Before Steve could continue the conversation, he looked down at his sketch… and his mouth dropped open. Right there in front of him was a beautiful rough sketch of the design he was supposed to make for the car. This wasn’t something he’d pull out of his head during mindless sketches, it… was almost like it was put there by someone else.

“I need to call you back.”

Steve hung up, grabbed up his sketchbook, and bolted down to the shop. He needed to talk to Bucky about this as soon as possible because there was only one realistic explanation for why this happened. Problem was it scared the shit out of him.

Bucky looked up as Steve burst through the back door. It took him a second because he’d honestly expected Clint to be back first. Steve’s forehead was pale but his cheeks were bright pink, and his breath had a little hitch of a cough at either end. Bucky’s feet were moving before his brain had completely registered the symptoms of Steve’s asthma. He went to the center support of the garage and grabbed the little box under the first aid kit and the fire blanket. He popped it open with his thumb and held the rescue inhaler out to Steve.

Steve took some puffs of the rescue inhaler and sat down. The page of sketches were still open, staring him in the face, like a neon sign stating the obvious. Bucky didn’t even glance at the sketches, just rocked Steve gently with a grip on his narrow shoulder.

“What the hell, man? What part of ‘no pressure’ did you not get?”

“Who did you talk to?” Steve wheezed.

“The hell are you talking about?”

“The representative who came in. Who was it?”

Bucky’s face screwed up. “Stop dying first, then I’ll tell you, ok?”

Steve forced himself to calm down and tried to slow his breaths. His heart was beating out of his chest because he was scared, yet he desperately wanted to talk. Bucky crossed to the mini fridge and grabbed Steve a can of seltzer, handing it to him with a skeptical frown.

“Who came into the shop for Stark Industries?”

Bucky sat back on the workbench and rubbed his ribs the way he did when he couldn’t cross his arms. He reached over and pulled a half-empty fifth of scotch out of the drawer, then rested it on his thigh like an emergency measure. He took a deep breath and fixed Steve with a don’t-punk-out-on-me glare.

“Tony Stark. He came because I told him I wouldn’t take the job if he didn’t. I told him that because I thought he wouldn’t.”

Steve practically felt his breath leave his body. Tony Stark…  _ Tony Stark was his Soulmate!? _ He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes because he thought he might actually cry from so many emotions.

Bucky gripped the bottle so he could point a finger at Steve. “If you die on me over this I’m burying you under the tire pile.”

“It’s not that…” Steve whispered.

He held up the sketches for Bucky to see. Bucky worked the lid off the bottle with two fingers and handed it to Steve instructively so he could take the pad. So Steve had freaked out and decided he didn’t have any ideas, fine. He didn’t need to prove it, but Bucky would take a look and let him off the hook gent...ly…

His gaze fell on the simple sketch and practically fell into it. It was perfect. He held his breath and understood why Steve had lost his completely.

“Steve… Steve holy shit.” Was all he could say. 

“I wasn’t even thinking while I was drawing it. I was on the phone and it just… it just  _ happened _ .”

Clint chose that moment to stroll in through the open front of the garage, a case of birch beer in one hand, a pair of pizza boxes balanced on the other.

“Okay, gents, I got one half-pepperoni-half-sausage and a Peppino’s deluxe-.” He noted how no one was moving. “What are we panicking about?”

Steve glared and took a large swig of the scotch. He only drank on certain occasions, which included losing his shit. This was a losing his shit moment for the history books.

Bucky looked at the sketch again, over at Clint, then back to Steve. “Let’s take this upstairs. I think we all need to sit down.”

They all made their way to the apartment and eventually took residence in Steve’s little corner bed. Bucky was in the desk chair, Steve was on the bed, Clint was on the floor. Instead of just taking swigs out of the bottle, they actually got some tumblers to drink out of, and pizza had been put on paper plates.

“How the fuck did I get Tony Stark as my Soulmate!?” Steve asked.

Clint still wasn’t locked into the overall sense of gravity. “Did you respond to one of those receipt scan contests or something?”

“Clint, this is serious.”

Bucky just gave Clint a look, and turned back to Steve. “So. What are you gonna do?”

“What do you mean what am I gonna do? What  _ can _ I even do?” Steve downed his glass of scotch. “He’s a billionaire genius engineer, I’m just a broke college student. Why would he even want me?”

Clint sighed with an edge of annoyance. “It’s not that big a deal. You’re obviously not happy about it. You do have an option to just ignore it.”

“That’s what I  _ want _ to do, but he’ll see the sketches anyway. Then he’ll want to meet me, and I have no doubt he’ll be disappointed. Have you seen some of the people he’s ‘allegedly’ slept with? Some of them were actual  _ supermodels _ .”

Bucky opened his mouth to respond bt Clint talked over him, gesturing with a folded slice of deluxe.

“Then don’t show it to him. Or if you want to kick it down the road, show it to him and let him decide to ignore it, then you’ll have your answer. Trust me, the realization feels really strong at first, but if you ignore it it becomes tolerable.” He cleared his throat. “At least according to what I’ve read.” 

The problem was… Steve didn’t want to ignore it, or be ignored. He’d been told all his life about how it was to finally have a Romantic Soulmate. And when he found out Bucky was his Platonic Soulmate, he was happy to have someone there at all to be his friend. Seeing Jane with Thor was like watching the perfect couple and Steve honestly longed for that. It just scared him shitless that Tony  _ fucking _ Stark was that Soulmate for him.

Bucky glared at Clint. “The hell, man? Steve’s having a moment. Just let him think. I know you’re on this big who-needs-it kick but jeez.”

Clint shrugged and put two more slices of pizza on his plate, heading for the door.

“Whatever. I’ve got reading to do. I’ll catch you guys later. You’re welcome for the pizza by the way.”

Bucky sat and ate his pizza, figuring he could handle Clint’s snit once Steve was on a more even keel. He held the silence open for him and waited for him to have something to say. It was a lot to ask of a guy who’d faced as much demeaning skepticism his whole life as Steve had, to just accept the massive vortex of narcissism and chaos that came with a guy like Tony Stark. Bucky knew the type. He wanted Steve to be happy, and honestly, the poor guy deserved the biggest win the world could hand out, but he wasn’t sure Tony Stark was it, especially considering the kind of ridicule Steve was accustomed to. He didn’t know if Steve would be able to protect himself from it. He didn’t know if he’d be able to protect Steve if everything else failed him.

When Steve stayed quiet, he asked,

“What are you thinking?”

Steve flopped back onto his bed with a sigh. How was it possible for someone to want to be invisible, but at the same time want to be the center of the universe? Apparently Steve’s luck, good or bad, was like that.

“That I want to crawl under a rock, but at the same time go to Stark Tower and demand to see him, which is fucking crazy.”

Bucky nodded. “Nothing has to happen today.” He put his plate of crusts down and crossed to the foot of the bed. “Here, c’mere.”

Steve crawled to the foot of the bed and laid his head on Bucky’s leg. He felt immediate comfort from Bucky’s fingers running through his hair and sighed. This was an all too familiar position for them, as Bucky would constantly comfort Steve when he was sick and his mom was working at the hospital. Sometimes Bucky and Natasha were the only ones who could take care of him because the hospital was understaffed. Still, it was a comfort he still carried to this day.

“I don’t know what to do, Buck.” Steve confessed. “An hour ago I was okay with just having you as my Platonic Soulmate… now  _ this _ .”

Bucky sighed.

“Yeah, I know, buddy. I wish I had the first thing to tell you but-.” He paused. He took another deep breath. “Listen. Whatever you do, I’ve got your back. That never changes. I’m about to sound like Clint but, I know people make a big screaming deal about Romantic Soulmates, and it is important, but so is this. And if you decide to let this go and just not deal with any of it, not the money or the exposure or the big pile of chaos that is Tony frickin’ Stark, you’re not gonna be alone. Not ever. You’re my friend, and that matters. Ok?”

Steve nodded, and closed his eyes. He laid in silence for a bit, just lost in his thoughts. He knew he couldn’t keep the sketches for himself, Bucky was going to be paid who knew how much for them, it could give the shop some much needed upgrades, and Tony Stark would give the shop some great exposure. If the sketches were truly perfect… well, he’d see what happens.

“Give the sketches to Stark.” Steve said.

Bucky silently worked his jaw back and forth and did his best not to order Steve to sleep on it. Steve was sensitive and frail, but had this absurdly outsized courage that had set him up to be knocked down over and over since the day they’d met. And he always got back up, but Bucky couldn’t help but worry that there might come a day when he wouldn’t. If there was one thing he knew about Steve’s courage, it was that there was no arguing with it.

“Ok.”

Steve blushed at his next question. “And… could you give me his number? Y’know, in case he calls?”

Bucky ruffled his hair. “Sure thing.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to follow me on twitter and Instagram. Both are under the user @roryqpotter


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony finally sees the design, and his whole world is flipped upside down from what it means.
> 
> Steve has a bit of a panic attack because now Tony knows.

Tony tried to spread his nervous habits around so he didn’t end up with too many obvious tells. He’d sworn off worrying at his eyebrows after he’d worn a noticeable gap into one of them that got actual tabloid coverage on a slow scandal day, so he mostly rotated between letting his foot shake, pinching his fingers together as tightly as he could two at a time, and picking at the varnish on his desk. Time just wouldn’t pass, and space seemed determined to isolate him in a bubble where nothing interesting was allowed to penetrate. 

A thankful distraction walked in the door in the form of red hair and scary murder skills. Natasha walked up to his desk with a clipboard and some folders, but also a bit of a sour expression. Tony leapt at the tiny hint of intrigue.

“What’s wrong? Worker unrest? Corporate espionage? Tuna casserole day in the cafeteria?”

“No, no, and no.” She answered as she put the folders on the desk. “Obadiah Stane left you a message.”

Tony grimaced. “Oh is that all? With my luck he won’t even have thought of any entertaining new ways to call me an embarrassing sodomite. Honestly, I have to do everything around here.”

“His exact words were, ‘Tell Mr. Stark to get his prancing ass over to the LA factory soon. Some maintenance is required on the arc reactor and no other goddamn scientist can figure it out’.”

“I hate it when I’m right.” He grumbled. “Not even a deep cut to the good old days of candy-ass or fudge-packer. I swear he’s gotten so timid. It’s political correctness run amok, I tells ya.”

Natasha coughed a chuckle, and refused to let herself react. She’d already caught a few reporters who had bugged the Stark Industries lines and had to fix them herself (thank you hacker training), so Stane was probably wary of that.

“Also, I got a text from Bucky-.”

Tony sat straight and paddled on the desk with his fingers.

“Oh yeah? What did he say?”

“He said the designs are ready to be approved. He thinks you’ll absolutely love them.”

He got up from his chair. “Great! That’s great. Um, is the-?”

“Sign this before you race to Brooklyn.”

Tony took the pen and scrawled his name. “It’s not just that. I do have a trip to LA to plan, too.” He cleared his throat and did his best to look captain-of-industry-ish.

“And yet you’re more excited about car paint than you are fixing the  _ Arc Reactor plant _ .”

“Same way you like reading me like a cheap magazine more than you like humoring my delusions of subtlety as a proper secretary should. Honestly, does no one respect the importance of vintage class oppression anymore?”

“Pretty sure it went out of style a while ago. Be back in three hours.”

“Yes dear.”

He planted a quick air-kiss about a foot from her cheek and was grateful that her situational awareness and tolerance for his nonsense were both high enough that she didn’t reflexively judo him into the floor for it. He keyed the elevator to take him to the private garage to retrieve his favorite new toy.

The drive to Brooklyn was surprisingly quick, and the proprietor of Barnes Bodywork met him at the open bay door.

“That was fast.” Bucky said with an amused smile.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Tony took off his sunglasses and glanced around. He’d developed a paparazzi-defense sense of when he was being stalked or watched, and he thought he could feel it prickling, but it was a little different. A quick glance at the shop’s outdoor security cameras assured him that they were purely cosmetic, and the immediate surroundings seemed clear of likely stalker-tells. All the same, he found himself straightening his tie and checking his teeth in the BMW’s side mirror, and not for Bucky’s sake.

Well, Clint freaking called it. They made a bet that Stark would be worrying about his appearance as soon as he got out of the car, which meant Bucky was out $10.

Tony gestured magnanimously. “You can take her for a spin around the block if you want. I always love to share this stuff with someone who’ll appreciate it.”

“I’ll pass.” Bucky gestured for Stark to follow him into the office, and on the way discreetly passed Clint $10. “My friend who did the sketches did something I think you’ll agree expresses ‘futurism’ and ‘elegance’.”

Tony clapped his hands together and rubbed them encouragingly. “Lay it on me, boss. Let’s see what ya got.”

Bucky picked up a folder off of his desk, and handed it to Stark.

Tony opened the folder, turned it sideways, and stopped. There was only one sheet of paper, but he wouldn’t have noticed if there had been others. In the sketch, the front of the car was red and gold with motifs of a lamborghini but faded to black, and the side decal was a starry night with a shooting star. The unsettled feeling at the back of his neck prickled and he glanced around, uncertain whether he was dreaming or being elaborately pranked. It definitely felt like he was being watched from above.

“How - Who did this? This is - well this is the idea I woke up with this morning, except - I mean this is  _ exactly _ what I wanted. Better. This is better than exactly what I wanted because it’s real.” He felt himself babbling and noticing it just made it worse. “I mean it is, isn’t it? Real? This is real. I’m not dreaming. It would be rude to not tell a customer if he’s dreaming.”

“You’re not dreaming. My friend did the sketches last night.”

Bucky didn’t want to outright say what happened. That was Steve’s business, and Stark seemed to be figuring it out on his own. And it wasn’t an out of nowhere reaction he was having.

Tony had had a literal ton of bricks fall on him before, safety-testing a new lightweight roll-cage as a publicity stunt. This was like that, except the impact bypassed his devices and his squishy outsides and hit him right in the brain, and once the facts of the situation were in there, they dug in deep and refused to negotiate. 

He had a Romantic Soulmate. And they were close by.

“So who’s the artist?”

Bucky hesitated… but answered honestly.

“My friend Steve Rogers. He’s an art student.”

“Well I’d urm-.” He cleared his dry throat. “Sorry is there a window or a bottle of scotch we could open? It’s like a shoebox in here. So I’d like to meet him. Your friend. Steve.”

“He’s busy with an essay.” Bucky lied easily. “I can give you his number if you want to talk about more possible commissions.”

“Yeah, I definitely do. I will be,” He rambled as he got out his phone. “wanting to get in touch with him about committing.  _ Commissions _ . Getting in with him, I mean. The - the touching.”

Bucky was trying his hardest not to burst out laughing, and he could hear Clint snorting from the other side of the garage.

He finally fumbled his phone open. “Yeah so what’s the-.” He completely blanked on the word and just waved his fingers at the screen. “Phone… thing. His.”

Bucky coughed in place of laughing, took the phone, and entered in the number. He just hoped Stark would keep to his intention of wanting to contact Steve, since Steve was panicking as it was.

Clint leaned on the door frame and said with a twinkle and a smirk. “You can leave the car today, we can start  _ committing _ Steve’s design on it first thing tomorrow.” 

Bucky gave him a death glare and said, “Out.”

“Yeah I should go.” Tony got up and turned for the door, then remembered and put the folder and key on the desk before turning away again. “There’s this disaster in LA, I gotta be on a plane in two hours.” He thumbed a text to the car service he sometimes used in the city.

“Go on ahead. We’ll call you when it’s finished and give you a final price.”

“Yep!” Tony raised a hand over his shoulder as he retreated from the suffocating office.

He dialed Pepper as he walked down the block to meet the car.

“Hello?” Pepper answered.

“Hey Pep! How’s your day going?”

“Well, we got some major gets for my gallery, so it hasn’t been too boring.”

“Great! That’s great. Good to hear. Listen, I was just thinking, I remember how much you loved coming along on factory trips to LA back when you worked for me, and I was wondering if you were free this afternoon. We can hop the jet, catch some sun, and you can let me freak out at you about what just happened because I’m kind of freaking out about what just happened.”

“Tony, I have a show in two days, I can’t come to LA.”

“Yeah, no, sure, that’s fair. I mean that’s why you quit and opened a gallery in the first place, that makes sense.” He loosened his tie.

“So you can tell me what happened over the phone. I’ve got some time.”

He glanced around, still feeling like he was being watched or followed. “Ok. Ok yeah. You know what? Listen, I’m coming over.”

“Are you sure?”

“Completely.”

She audibly sighed and said something to someone out of range of the phone. “I’ll take my lunch break early. But please don’t be using me as an excuse to not go to LA.”

“I promise. Thanks, Pep.”

The car finally found him and he climbed in gratefully, asking for the Potts Gallery in Manhattan and putting a hand over his closed eyes to try and get a grip on his thoughts.

***

Steve watched as Tony  _ freaking _ Stark left the garage in what seemed like a panic. While he was in the building, Steve could practically feel exactly where he was under his feet. And it sent him into an asthma attack from how fast his heart was racing (thankfully he had an inhaler with him). Eventually, he resolved to sitting at the breakfast bar and doodling the past relationships that had gone wrong. Like how his ex Doug wanted him to wear a binder 24/7, or how Allen kept him as a dirty little secret. He just hoped the universe would be a bit kinder to him this time around.

Bucky’s signature knock announced him before he opened his own door. “Hey pal. You doing ok up here?”

Steve shrugged with a frown. “Just drowning in my past a bit, no big deal.”

“Stark said you got the job. Record time, actually. He didn’t even want to see any more ideas or sketches. I’m still kind of shocked, actually.”

Steve’s head shot up at that. He was sure he’d at least get some critiques on the sketches since the Soulmate bond was a bit iffy at times, but he got it 100% right? Hot damn.

“He liked it?”

“Yeah, you could say that. I think he forgot how to breathe a couple times.” Bucky crossed to the fridge and poured himself from juice, trying to model some normalcy for his nervous bestie. “Clint’s getting the car primed as we speak.”

He’d actually met his fair share of wealthy guys with their favorite toys. He’d built up a quiet reputation as a best-kept-secret among the rich assholes that still wanted to feel like regular guys. Not once had any of them taken an idea on the first day, let alone the first sketch, and he really didn’t know what to think.

“Did he… ask about me?” Steve couldn’t help but blush slightly.

“He did. I gave him your number.”

Steve almost fell out of his chair (but did knock over the stool he was sitting on), and held onto the counter like a lifeline.

“Did he say he’d use it!?”

“In so many words, yeah, I think so.”

“What do you mean ‘in so many words’? What did he say?”

He hated when Bucky was cryptic like this. It drove him up the fucking wall at the worst times.

Bucky sighed. “I don’t remember his exact words. I was too busy wondering if I was going to have a dead billionaire on my office floor. But he wanted your number, and he babbled something about being in touch. I have his number if you’d rather call him.” He tried not to get annoyed, and not to let it seep into his voice, but as Steve’s Platonic Soulmate he wasn’t immune to his best friend’s nervous tendencies.

“When has that ever worked out? Plus he’s a CEO, I could end up calling him during a big important meeting or something and it would  _ not _ be the best first impression.”

Bucky sighed. “Have you eaten? Let’s go eat. And we’re walking. You need to work off some of this energy.”

Steve took a deep breath, and nodded.

***

Pepper had opened the Potts Gallery two years ago after she quit being Tony’s assistant. It was a modern art gallery, and usually showed local artists’ work. On the outside it was glass windows and a cursive black sign with the name of the gallery. She had made the gallery simple with white walls and abstract architecture.

Tony strode in as a sequence of frameless glass doors slid demurely out of his way. He bypassed the glass-enclosed business office and turned down an unassuming beige passage to Pepper’s private office to wait for her.

After a few minutes, he heard a set of heels come down the hall and in walked Pepper, in a navy blue suit and her hair impeccably straight. It had been a while since she’d seen Tony, the last time being at her last gallery show, but that was mainly because of donations by Stark Industries. She smiled at him and said,

“I hope you didn’t accidentally hack into the Pentagon again.”

Tony got up to meet her, putting a hand on her waist and giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Worse. You look great, though. Gallery’s really looking sharp.”

“Inner workings are still a bit clunky, but we’re getting there.” Pepper gave him a quick hug and headed to her coffee machine. “Coffee?”

“Got anything drunk-ier?”

“Unfortunately no.”

She sat down.

Tony shrugged. “It’s ok, I probably shouldn’t either. Had two in the car. So yeah…”

He paced restlessly and stopped to finger a tchotchke on a shelf that he didn’t really see.

“Tony, you’re scaring me a bit. What happened?”

“Sorry. Sorry, yeah. I’m being dramatic. Sorry. So… so yeah I have a Soulmate.”

Pepper’s jaw dropped. She had been present for the few drunken nights where Tony cried about being forever single, but now he’d found them?

“Who is it?”

“I’m not sure, I haven’t met him. But he’s an artist. A  _ brilliant  _ artist, Pep. What am I gonna do?!”

He stopped himself short of accidentally knocking Pepper’s tasteful decor onto the floor. She really was better off without a bull like him always up in her china shop, but he missed having her clear and reasonable perspective around all the time. 

“Wait, you haven’t met him? Have you even talked over the phone before?”

Tony babbled and blithered his way through the last forty-eight hours, trailing off as he tried to explain the artwork he’d been shown, and how he’d felt the universe collapsing in on his chest the moment he’d seen it.

Pepper knew there was only one option here, which meant she’d have to break out her secret contraband. She went behind her desk, opened her locked drawer, and got out her bottle of whiskey and two tumblers. She only kept it for when she had an extremely stressful day. She poured some in each glass and handed one to Tony.

“It sounds like you need a few days to calm down.” She said.

“Pepper, at the rate this freak-out is accelerating, I might be dead by tomorrow.” He knew he was being a dramatic ass, but Pepper was used to it, and he loved that about her.

“You did say you were going to the LA factory. Use some of those  _ official _ vacation days at your house in Malibu, and look at this from a different angle.”

“Please come with me.  _ Please _ , Pep.”

She sighed with a frown.

“You know I would if I could, but I still have a show in two days.”

“I can’t be in LA by myself. And Natasha would just think it was funny to watch me die.”

“What about Rhodey or Bruce? I heard Rhodey’s coming back for a week soon, and Bruce is taking some time off to work on his science article.”

Tony sat down hard in his chair and rubbed his neck. It wasn’t a bad idea, but he felt inclined to sulk about it anyway. Rhodey would just keep telling him to get over himself, and be right, which wouldn’t make him feel any better. Bruce would probably freak out right along with him, or lose interest and try to distract him… which was also not the worst plan. But the fussy child in him wanted Pepper.

“That’s… a good idea. You’re probably right.”

She took a sip of her whiskey. “Where you’re concerned, I’m rarely wrong.”

“What if I build you a robot doppelganger that can handle all the-?”

“Don’t even think about it. You’re better at building robots like DUM-E, let’s not make a person that could take my place.”

“No one could take your place, Pep, that’s my point. But these celebrity paint-splashers you work with just need someone to hold their hands and tell them they’re cute. I’m having a crisis!”

“But I’m not a CEO who can just walk away whenever I want. I’m still in charge of planning the event’s security, hours, art sales, everything that you put me in charge of before but for the gallery.” She held Tony’s hand with a sympathetic look. “Trust me, I  _ really _ want to come with you, but I just have too much happening here.”

Tony huffed a sigh of profound self-pity. “You’re wasted here. I mean, you were wasted on me, too, but…” He sighed again. “Ok, I’ll get out of your hair. Thanks for the whiskey. And the sanity.”

He pushed up from his seat, and let Pepper walk him out, petting him and giving him cursory encouragements the whole way before pushing him out the door.

***

Bucky and Steve ended up walking to the local diner they frequented, owned by Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. They took their usual booth by the window, and they didn’t even have to order as Pietro already got them their drinks and said their orders were being cooked. Steve just sunk into his seat and closed his eyes. He’d been burned so many times in the past six years he’d attempted dating, and all of them had ended badly. He didn’t know if he could handle it from his Romantic Soulmate too.

“Do you think this’ll end badly, Buck?” He asked.

“Nah. I mean, I have no idea, you’re not really acting like yourself so I can’t even guess what’s gonna happen, but just going on you being a good person, and Stark seeming ok, and the fact that no matter what you’re always gonna have me and Clint, I think you’re gonna be ok.”

“But… what if it ends up like-.” Steve’s eyes widened as he looked behind Bucky, and in walked the very ex he was about to mention: Patrick.

Bucky caught the line of Steve’s gaze but didn’t turn. “What?”

“Patrick just walked in.” Steve pulled up the hood on his hoodie and made sure to cover his eyes. “Do not act suspicious and don’t look at him.”

“I won’t. Unless he comes over here.” Bucky growled into his drink.

Bucky hefted his butter knife thoughtfully. He knew better than to start something when Steve just needed some peace and normalcy, but he wouldn’t grieve if Patrick gave him an excuse to demolish him. He’d treated Steve like a prop before cheating on him with a woman.

Steve still remembered the last thing Patrick said to him: “get out of here  _ bitch _ ”, emphasizing on the female derogatory word. Steve had tried to take things slow unlike his previous two boyfriends. They didn’t do anything sexual because usually his exes would get him to give handjobs or blowjobs, but only have sex once then leave because they didn’t like it. Patrick was sick of waiting, and found a  _ woman _ to sleep with. Steve had seen the texts on Patrick’s phone, and when he confronted him, Bucky had to restrain Steve from beating him within an inch of his life.

Pietro came back with their usuals, a double burger for Bucky with onion rings and some chicken strips and fries for Steve. But immediately things were blown when Pietro said,

“Steve, Wanda and I were wondering if you could design some posters for an event we’re helping to host...”

Patrick, who was tall, brunette, tan skin and green eyes, looked over to Steve’s table, and all Steve could think was  _ ‘fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck’ _ . He stopped paying attention to Pietro and tried to tell Bucky via the bond that Patrick was walking over and  _ please stop him from talking to me _ .

Without missing a beat Bucky stood up out of the booth into the aisle, blocking any line-of-sight to Steve, and Pietro walked away. Bucky pointed at Patrick.

“Oh hey, look who it is. Peter! No, Pepé. It’s Pepé, right?”

Patrick just gave him an unamused look. “Patrick.”

Bucky squinted. “Are you sure? I’m almost certain it’s Pepé.”

“I think I’d know my own name, Barnes.”

“We can agree to disagree, I guess. Good to see you. Bye.”

Patrick peeked over Bucky’s shoulder to Steve, but looked back at Bucky and walked away. As soon as he left the building and disappeared from the view of the windows, Steve let out a breath and wiped his forehead with his napkin.

“Why Pepé?” He asked.

“That’s the name of that frog all the douchebags are obsessed with. Just popped into my head when douchebag showed up.”

Steve chuckled, and pulled back the hood of his hoodie as Bucky sat back down.

“What is it with my luck even when I’m not in a relationship?”

Bucky shrugged. “I think you should take it as a sign from the universe that things can’t exactly get worse. I mean, you survived that asshole. How bad could Tony Stark be?”

“I don’t know… and that’s what scares me.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to follow me on twitter and Instagram. Both are under the user @roryqpotter


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony begrudgingly fixes the arc reactor, Steve makes a friend out of catcalling weirdo, and they finally make contact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mentions of a hookup with graphic descriptions, transphobia, and homophobia.

Tony had managed to pull Bruce out of his condo to come on his trip to LA a day later. He knew Bruce was fascinated by the Arc Reactor and the recent engine, so Tony said he’d let Bruce see the repairs. The plan was the first day they’d go to the reactor plant and fix the problem, then spend three days at Tony’s house in Malibu just relaxing, getting sun, typical things you do in Malibu.

They were on Tony’s private jet while Tony explained what happened with the sketches and the whole Romantic Soulmate thing. Bruce was half listening, half typing his report on his laptop. He was good at multitasking where Tony was concerned. And this report was extremely important to his career.

“So, you know, I’m trying to take Pepper’s advice, because she’s always right, frankly. I just don’t know. I feel like-.” He looked at Bruce for the first time in over twenty minutes of rambling and cleared his throat. “Honestly, what’s the point of my kidnapping you if you refuse to behave like a captive audience for my nonsense?”

“It’s not like I haven’t been listening.” Bruce defended, still looking at his laptop. “I just also have a time limit to release this study. And as you know, it also has to be looked at by the science community in general.”

Tony gave a put-upon sigh and gave up. “I disagree. It is  _ like _ you’re not listening, even if you are. Meh. Are you hungry? Wanna have something before we land?”

“I’ll take a green drink.”

“There you go, now you’re acting like a prisoner!” Tony signalled to the flight attendant. “Hey, can I get a couple of club sandwiches and green drinks for me and my hippie science bro here?”

“Just because I’m concerned about being healthy doesn’t mean I’m a hippie.”

“Course not. I attribute the air of smugness around it to you being a hippie, that’s all.” Tony grinned. “You can pick the bacon off your sandwich. I’ll even let you glare at me sanctimoniously while you do it.”

Bruce chuckled, and appreciated Tony’s honesty. And as sanctioned, he did exactly that as he picked the bacon off of his sandwich.

But when there were 20 minutes left on the flight, Natasha (who came on the trip because she needed a break) got a notification on her phone. When she opened it, she whispered, “goddammit” and knew that she’d have to fend off paparazzi on their trip. With a sigh, she got up from her seat and tapped Tony on the shoulder.

“Another scandal has popped up.” She said. “The Daily Mail says they have incriminating photos of you from 2 weeks ago. Some girl named Carmen is their source.”

Tony started to reflexively shrug the news off but it seemed to stick in his gut. He’d gotten threats and fielded attempts on his dignity from all comers for a long time, and most of the time they just rolled off, because the bullies can’t exactly do anything to you if you have money and don’t give a fuck about your bad-boy reputation. But all of a sudden, he realized with growing horror, he gave a fuck. For once there was someone that maybe he didn’t want seeing pictures in the grocery store of him sucking champagne off supermodels.

It was dumb. Google already had that and worse. But everything about having a Romantic Soulmate was apparently about making him feel dumb. 

Bruce noticed Tony’s sudden change in demeanor, and shut his laptop. Now seemed the proper time to actually be supportive instead of just listening.

“You’re actually worried this time?”

Tony shook his head. “It’s fine. No, it’s fine. This is actually probably good I mean-” He spun the problem in his big brain and couldn’t quite come up with a believable way to end that sentence. “I mean it’ll be fine. It’s not like it isn’t true, right? So I guess something like this was bound to happen.”

“That depends. What did you do two weeks ago with a woman named Carmen?” Natasha asked, mostly to see how bad damage control would be.

Tony stared at her for a beat. “Sorry, I’m just stunned to know you weren’t watching. I figured you already had pics.”

“I don’t want to follow you to every hookup you have. I’m just trying to gauge how bad the press will be if they do have pictures.”

Tony sighed. “Well, I’ll admit my memory is a little hazy, but there was definitely a strap on involved. In my defense, not a huge one. I’m no size queen.” He smiled weakly.

“So… the paparazzi waiting will be ravenous because they’ll assume you’re just in the closet about being gay… for the millionth time.”

“I don’t think I’ve been properly in the closet about being pan since the late nineties. But they do love a good snicker at a powerful guy being a bottom. That never seems to stop being hilarious. I mean I could release a statement about how I’m technically a power-switch, or that I like a good fucking from a strong woman now and then because I’m such a good feminist, but I doubt it’ll play.”

Bruce became visibly uncomfortable, got out his earbuds, and moved to a different table on the jet. “Wait until my music is on to continue this conversation.”

He put his earbuds in, and Natasha sat in his place. “And you’re worried about your newly discovered Soulmate seeing it.” But she smirked to herself. “Even though I happen to know he wouldn’t mind.”

Tony fiddled his collar open to let out some trapped heat. “Well, sure I guess if someone has the bad luck to be  _ my _ Soulmate they’d have to be pretty-.” He paused and recognized her smile. “Wait, you know? What do you know? And why?”

“Well you were explaining it just an hour ago, and Bucky told me... And Steve might have sent me a text asking about you.”

The look on Tony’s face was priceless as he realized she knew him. Honestly, Steve was like a little brother to her, so she was a bit protective over him. But she knew that when Tony was really falling for someone, he treated them right.

“So, wait, you know this guy well enough to know his taste in bend-over-boyfriends, but you let me sit here and bare my soul to Banner, probably traumatizing the poor child for life, and didn’t say anything? You’re fired. No, I take that back. You’re on paid furlough. You’re off the clock until we get back to New York. But getting paid. I am officially bribing you for information.”

“I won’t release too much information. I’ve known him practically my whole life, so certain things are off limits.”

A look flickered across Tony’s face reminiscent of a defiant toddler, but he sighed. “Fine. Sadist. So just start telling me things. I’ll tell you when to stop.”

“Well… he’s 5’4”, blond, blue eyes, but thin. He’s in college for an art degree and lives with my brother. He doesn’t take shit from anyone and is willing to get into fights if he thinks it’s necessary. And he’s been that way since we were little.”

Tony nodded slowly and tried to assemble the picture. He couldn’t quite get it. The impression he’d gotten, the almost-literal sense of someone being impressed upon him from above when he was at Barnes’ shop, was of someone almost angelic, wrapped in light and floating over him with a calm weighty presence and a massive flaming sword. One of those angels you never wanted to see headed in your direction with an unhappy look. Little and blond didn’t exactly square with that, but the image of a little guy willing to fight like hell certainly did.

“So, what is he, one of those little MMA types? Looks small but will rip your ears off before you can move?” He smirked back at Natasha. “Just like his big sister?”

“I at least have a decent murder face to go along with it. People underestimate Steve because of his size. And since Bucky and I took fighting classes when we were younger, we taught him what we were taught so he could defend himself. He used to be bullied a lot because he was sick almost constantly.”

“Sick?” Tony felt a twinge of intense and unaccustomed sympathy. The idea of this guy he’d never met being in pain was mystifyingly unbearable.

Nat’s face fell at the memories of a young Steve, sweating and coughing in a hospital bed. It hurt every time, and sometimes Natasha would be the only one who could come over and take care of him.

“Steve… he’s had the worst luck with his body. He has a long list of medical issues and a long medical history. He gets sick more than normal people, and has physical disabilities. Nothing like not being able to walk, but asthma, an ear being partially deaf, things like that.”

“And the black-plague equivalent of Soulmates.” Tony mumbled bitterly, scrubbing his forehead with his hand and sinking into his seat.

He even felt himself making it about himself and couldn’t stop. It was like he had to shut out his sense of Steve being in pain, and a nice deep bout of self-loathing would be the only thing strong enough. He signaled the flight attendant, who recognized his posture and was already mixing a highball.

“I wouldn’t allow you to even think about dating him if you were right about yourself.” Natasha assured. “You make shitty choices, but you’re not a shitty person.”

Tony grumbled unintelligibly, unwilling to give up his protective cocoon of self-obsession. Even that momentary sense of deep connection, and even outrage, over the idea that this stranger had ever been made to suffer, had felt too raw and unguarded to bear. He’d felt protective of his friends before, and had learned to fight for them without getting himself thrown in jail, but when Natasha talked about Steve it was like mainlining vodka and adrenaline together (which he’d sworn never to do again after that one time in Thailand.)

“We’re gonna be landing, I’m gonna review the schematics so we can get the reactor done before dinner. Could you see if there are any seats open at Auburn?”

“Consider it done.”

***

Steve was at his last class for the week, Art History III. His instructor made the course interesting, unlike his last one who almost made him fail the class because of how boring she was. He was sat next to Thor, as usual, and took some notes. But suddenly the instructor had some problems with the powerpoint, and said they could take a break while he fixed it.

He looked up to Thor, and knew that Thor was the only one he knew that had a Romantic Soulmate. Maybe Steve could ask some questions in preparation for meeting Tony.

“Thor?”

Thor looked up from doodling a storyboard and immediately closed his books, folding his hands on top of his desk like he was taking a meeting.

“Steve?”

“What was it like when you met Jane?” He asked.

Thor’s big square-jawed face split into a sappy smile and he sighed dreamily. “She ran me over with her car.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “What?”

“It is true. She had been living in England with her mother’s family and had come to Norway to study the Aurora Borealis. She was still getting the hang of driving on the right side of the road again and I was crossing and not paying attention because I was filming some pigeons and bam! She taught me how to fly!”

Only Thor would think of getting hit by a car that way. But Jane was his Soulmate, so it made sense… a little bit.

He sighed again. “I opened my eyes and she was fussing over me, and I felt like I hadn’t landed. I was a little disoriented from the concussion but apparently when the ambulance came I asked them for five more minutes, because I hadn’t gotten her number. They assured me the police would get it, and I remember thinking I had never known that was something they would do for the son of a diplomat.” He chuckled deeply. “But why do you ask?”

Steve fidgeted with the rings of his notebook, and smiled. “I think I’ve found mine.”

Thor’s smile broadened and he reached over to shake Steve affectionately by one shoulder. “How excellent, my friend!”

“But uh… I haven’t met him yet.” Steve confessed. “He saw my sketches for his car’s paint job, and apparently he thought I’m his Soulmate too.”

Thor nodded thoughtfully. “What is it about cars, hm?”

Steve chuckled. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

The Instructor groaned and said,

“The Powerpoint is absolutely screwed, we’ll pick it up on Tuesday. You’re free to go.”

Everyone started packing up their things and Steve was thankful that he didn’t have to lug his portfolio to the subway. Thor clapped Steve on the back as he turned to go.

“I have another class, but I insist that you send me an electronic mail. I have every confidence in you in this new adventure!” He swept grandly away before Steve could respond.

_ Well, at least someone has faith in me. _ Steve walked to the usual subway station and checked the train times on his phone. Thankfully a train to Brooklyn was coming in 15 minutes, so it wasn’t too bad of a wait.

As he waited on a bench, he thought about what Thor said. His confidence actually made Steve feel a bit better about the situation, and so did his story. If a literal car accident could turn into the beginnings of a romance, then maybe he could actually make it with Tony Stark. Maybe he’d call him when he got home.

Steve had opened his small sketchbook and begun to doodle a detail of Tony Stark’s right eye from memory when a laugh sliced through his good ear like a cold wind.

“Heyyyy, Stevie!”

Steve’s head snapped up, and somehow his fucking luck managed to bring Patrick back into his life, and very obviously drunk. He did  _ not _ need this right now.

“Patrick.” Steve stiffly greeted.

“Where’s your lopsided protector? I thought that three-legged dog knew better than to let you struggle around town on your own.” Patrick laughed at his own joke and leaned on the back of the bench with one hand, too close.

Steve put his sketchbook and pencils back in his bag, and stood away from the asshole.

“You’re drunk, go away.”

Patrick reeled up to standing straight and raised both hands defensively. “Hey, take it easy, princess. Dig that sand out of your vagina. Shit.”

“I’m serious, back off.” Steve said in a dangerous tone.

Patrick scoffed. “Jesus and you wonder why nobody-.” He shook his head as if it wasn’t worth it. “Enjoy being a prickly fucking cunt, Stevie.”

“Excuse me, Sir?” A voice manifested from behind Patrick.

Steve looked over Patrick’s shoulder, and didn’t think he’d ever be thankful to see creepy cat-calling dude.

Patrick wheeled around uncertainly. “Yeah?”

The scabby lurker quirked a solicitous smile. “I’m afraid you’ve exceeded the number of homophobic slurs permitted on this subway platform, and I’m gonna have to ask you to surrender your outie privileges.”

Patrick blinked. “My wha-?”

The interloper kneed him in the crotch so hard Steve heard something snap. Damn, creepy guy could definitely land a hit. Then the dude grabbed Patrick by his shoulders, pinned him to the wall, and got out an  _ army issued knife _ that he pointed at Patrick’s stomach

“If I see you on this platform again before they drop back into place sometime next week,” He hissed, somehow still sounding friendly and helpful. “I’ll take ‘em off for you. The testosterone seems to be poisoning your brain.”

As soon as the creepy guy let him go, Patrick hobbled towards the exit without a backward glance, trailing a spatter of piss behind him. Steve barely restrained himself from laughing at the image, and looked up at creepy dude.

“Thanks.”

Creepy raised both hands and took a few steps back. “Sorry about that. I like to think we creepers have a certain minimum of style to maintain, and that guy was way off book. Please enjoy the rest of your wait unmolested.” He grinned. “Though molestation is available upon request and free of charge. Just ask at Sister Margaret’s for Wade Wilson.”

Steve chuckled. “Sorry, I’ll be taken soon.”

He brightened. “Hey, that’s great! Good for you, kid! Mazel!”

The train came into the station, and with one final nod at Wade, Steve got onto the train to go home.

***

“Wow…” Bruce whispered as he, Tony, and Natasha walked into the Reactor Plant.

“Yeah, she’s a beaut. Lemme get the panels open and we’ll have a look at what’s causing the arcing.”

The Arc Reactor was once again on full power in all of its beauty. The blue light of the palladium powered core was on its pedestal, and Bruce went over to the controls to look at it, looking like a kid in a candy store. A scientist in a lab coat and name badge came over. She picked up the clipboard at the side of the machine and carried it over to Tony.

“Oh hi, Mr. Stark, we weren’t expecting you until later. Here’s the raw notes on the malfunction if you want them. Seems like some kind of feedback turbulence more than a conduction issue, but it could be either. Or something else. I mean, that’s why the higher ups decided to call you, I guess.”

Bruce looked at the different readings of the reactor, and asked, “Could it be that the reactor is creating excess power?”

She shrugged. “Potentially? If that’s the case it would mean there’s something else wrong with the monitors, though.”

“I’m sure Tony can handle it, Ms. Andrews.” A gruff voice said from the entrance.

Tony popped his head up from behind the secondary control grid to see Obadiah Stane leaning against the doorway, an unlit cigar gripped in his smiling jaws.

“I’m sure you’re sure I can. Clearly that’s why you came down to spy on me. Because you respect my competence.”

“Don’t be so angry that I’m overseeing my plant’s repairs. I mean, it would be irresponsible for the head of the LA factories to not offer insight on this.”

Tony tilted his head to one side, suppressing a smirk. “Then by all means. Let’s have your insight. Then we’ll get out of your...” He glanced at Stanes bald head. “...way.”

A brief expression of anger flickered on Stane’s face, but quickly went back to his business as usual look. “My insight is don’t make anything explode, unlike those photos will explode all over the internet.”

Natasha glared at Stane and stepped into his view with her usual military stance (despite wearing dress pants, heels, and holding a Starkpad).

“I assure you I’ll handle damage control…  _ if _ the photos actually exist.”

He smiled too pleasantly at her. “I’m sure you will, Ms. Barnes. But not even a former spy can stop the internet in its entirety.”

Tony checked his grip on the wrench in his hand before he began brandishing it. Stane knew about the photos, he was almost sure. It had gotten a little too convenient, the last few scandals, how efficiently those sorts of things seemed to be finding their way into existing at all, and then into the hands of the exact wrong people.

“That is true, Obie. I can’t stop gossip any more than I can stop outright sabotage, if someone’s determined enough. And yet somehow no one’s managed to stop me yet, either. For all their trying.”

“The court of public opinion is very powerful. People have lost everything from old tweets or emails. Let’s just hope that doesn’t happen to you.”

And with that, he left and got into his limousine, leaving Nat, Bruce, and Tony with the reactor. 

Tony growled under his breath. “Let’s hope that meteor comes for you sooner rather than later, you old dinosaur.” A thought struck him and he put down the wrench and picked up a screwdriver, heading over to one of the computer terminals. “Hey Bruce, come over here, I’ve got a hunch.”

He pulled off a back panel and Ms. Andrews cleared her throat quietly. “That’s, um, the computers are hardwired to-.”

“Yeah, thanks, I’m aware.” Tony interrupted. “Bruce watch the monitor and tell me if anything changes on the numbers readout.”

Bruce nodded and watched the monitors as Tony fiddled with the computers. In only a few seconds, the readings went back to normal, and Bruce groaned.

“It’s fixed… that motherfucker.”

“Yeah, it was never broken. They made my baby a malingerer. Someone changed out the calibrated readout panel to misinterpret the output.” He sighed. “I’ll hand it to him, though. At least he’s smart enough to know that he couldn’t sabotage the hardware without potentially blowing himself to pieces. He’s got survival instincts.”

Bruce started doing deep breathing to not smash the controls. Tony had seen Bruce’s rage problem before, and knew better than to try to tell him to calm down. Instead he put down his tools and shook his head irritably.

“I’m so mad right now, like you wouldn’t believe. Natasha, could you push our dinner reservation back? I need to take Bruce over to the company gym to let off a little steam before I lose it. Come on, Bruce.”

“I’ll be sure to pass on the message.” She said as they headed to the rented car.

After a good three hours at the gym getting anger out, the three went to Auburn to have dinner. 

Across the country in New York City, Steve paced back and forth in his apartment. He had decided to call Tony, but he didn’t exactly know what to say if he picked up. And saying he was nervous was an understatement. So as moral support, Bucky was laying on the couch giving tips.

“So I need to just ask about his day?”

“If that’s what you want to know about, yeah. I mean, he’s just a guy. You should say what you mean.”

Steve took a deep breath, and shut his eyes for a second. He could do this. He’d done even crazier shit than this, and this was his Romantic Soulmate. As quickly as he could, he went to Tony Stark’s contact and hit the call button before he could stop himself.

At dinner in LA, Tony rolled his eyes as his phone buzzed. He pulled it out and expected to see Stane leaving him a disingenuous thank-you or some reporter in search of a quote who had probably paid too much for his private number. Instead, he saw Steve Rogers’ name and dropped his fork. Natasha looked over in concern.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, I just gotta take this.” He muttered as he got up and headed towards the bathroom lounge. He took a deep breath, tapped, and said, “Hello?”

Steve’s breath almost left his body, but he kept his cool and asked, “Is this Tony Stark?”

“Yeah, you got me. Now what are you gonna do about it?”

“Tell you that this is Steve Rogers, the one who did the sketches for your car.”

Steve facepalmed his forehead at that bad line.

“Great!” Tony tried not to sound too forced or too manic and failed at both. “I was looking forward to talking to you. Great sketches, man. Really next level stuff.”

Steve actually blushed from the praise, wedged his phone between his shoulder and head, and signed in ASL to Bucky,  _ ‘he said my sketches were next level stuff’ _ but said out loud,

“I wouldn’t call them that.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and signed back with his one hand ‘ _ you’re ridiculous. Don’t be modest. You’re talking to the biggest ego on earth.’ _ They had both learned ASL after that time when Clint broke his hearing aids. It definitely helped when they needed to talk without sounding rude to other people.

“Well, that’s a shame,” Tony said. “But I guess once my check clears and I own them, it’s what I call them that will matter.” He put his thumb over the microphone and knocked his head against the wall with a heavy cringe. He cursed himself for sounding like the biggest ego on earth.

“You want to buy my sketches?”

Bucky signed, ‘ _ remember he said the sky’s the limit when you set your price!’ _

Steve just gave Bucky a look and said, “I’ve never had someone do that before, apart from the occasional commission.”

“Hey, limited edition. Even better. But yeah, I told your friend to go ahead and get started on the car, so I definitely want to buy the design. And frankly I’d like to work with you again the next time I have an important project. You’re something special.”

Steve couldn’t speak for a moment, and took a calming breath so he wouldn’t have an asthma attack. “Well, I’d rather meet you the next time, or just meet you for something casual, like coffee.”

Tony felt himself freezing up and shook his shoulders out. Sure. Coffee. Sure. He could totally bet the most important meeting of his life on whether some barista had thought to check the freshness of the creamer. He switched his phone to the other hand. He hated dating. He was way better at… literally everything.

“Sure. Yeah. Tell you what, I’m in LA right now but when I come back we’ll set something up.”

“Oh, when do you think you’ll be back?”

“Couple days.”

“How does Wednesday afternoon sound? There’s this coffee place close to campus I like to go to, and I have a block free in between classes.”

Tony cringed. Campus coffee. “Ah, shoot, you know what? I actually don’t have my master schedule on my phone, so I’m gonna have to call you back.”

“Okay. Good, better to not go over an important meeting with our coffee… thing.”

“Hah, yeah, or vice versa!” Tony cringed again. What was he even talking about?

“So… I guess I’ll hear from you soon?”

“Indeed you will.”  _ If you don’t hear too much about me first _ his inner voice prodded.

“Well, have a good time in LA.”

“You too!” Tony hung up before realizing what he’d said. He thudded a slow rhythm on the wall lightly with his forehead. He grabbed a paper towel and wiped his sweaty hands. “You too? Ugh…”

Steve practically dropped his phone and fell over the back of the couch as all the tension left his body, even though he was just laying over the back light a wet noodle. He just had a conversation with Tony Stark. He (almost) set up a coffee date with his Romantic Soulmate. Holy shit!

Bucky was beaming at him like a proud parent. “Well?”

“He didn’t have his schedule with him, so he said he’ll call me back about coffee.”

Bucky grimaced. “He sounds like a bum.”

“He sounded as nervous as I felt… or… I just kind of  _ know _ he was nervous.”

Despite not sounding nervous at all, Steve could somehow tell that Tony was nervous. Why would Tony be nervous at all? He had nothing to lose if things didn’t go well with Steve. He’d come back from scandal after scandal, and barely lost a dime.

Tony paced the lounge outside the restroom, his thoughts haunted by the idea of trying to make a good first impression in a kitschy, crowded, campus coffee shop. No. Unacceptable. He had to make a move. But what? Something that showed he recognized Steve’s talent, and was respectful and discerning. Something that said  _ I can give you the best of everything _ . 

But the only thing he really knew was that Steve was a talented artist and had a former spy for a fairy god-sister. And that he was a fighter. And forthright to the point of madness to call him on his personal line for a coffee date. And, holy shit, he had just about the sexiest voice Tony had ever heard. That clinched it. He had to do something. He couldn’t leave this up to some hole-in-the-wall ambiance. He speed-dialed Pepper. When she picked up he started before she could speak,

“Pepper, I need some advice about art.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to follow me on twitter and Instagram. Both are under the user @roryqpotter


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has a habit of going over the top with his actions. Steve doesn't exactly take it well.

Two days had gone by since the phone call, and Steve hadn’t heard a word from Tony. True, it felt like Tony was nervous when they talked, but Steve didn’t think he came off as anything other than nice. Sure, he didn’t exactly like everything he said, except he was nervous! He walked behind the garage as usual and saw Clint on the phone, probably talking to Natasha. But before Steve could go up the stairs, Clint stopped him.

“Hey man, you got a delivery. I told them to put it upstairs. They wouldn’t leave it in the garage.” He frowned and glanced around. “There were three guys. In suits. I’m really not sure why. It didn’t seem that heavy.”

Steve didn’t exactly know what to say… so he just nodded his thanks and went upstairs to the apartment. He went inside and sure enough, there was a thin wooden crate leaning against the breakfast bar, and Bucky was on the couch eating a sandwich.

“Um… is there a crowbar or something we can use?” Steve asked as he eyed the crate. Upon further inspection, the return address was Stark Industries.

“Yeah, they left a complementary one. Who does that?”

“Apparently Tony Stark.”

“Here,” Bucky put his sandwich down and wiped his hand on his jeans. “I feel like I should do the honors. I’ve been here guarding it for two hours.”

Bucky was grateful when Steve handed him the crowbar without objection. It usually meant Steve was in a reasonably good mood when he didn’t feel the need to insist he could perform feats of strength that really weren’t his forte.

As soon as Bucky got the top open, Steve rummaged through the paper for whatever was inside, and he felt… a frame, the type you would get for a painting. Okay, so he sent a painting, not a big deal. It was probably one of those modern artists he saw at Potts Gallery. Steve gently took the painting out and almost dropped it in his shock.

“What is it? If it’s a painting of him it’s staying behind the sofa.”

“It’s a Toulouse-Lautrec painting.” Steve whispered.

Right there in his hands was one of the paintings Steve had seen in his art appreciation book. It was Toulouse-Lautrec’s painting of two androgynous figures kissing on a bed, signed and in its post-impressionistic glory. Steve had to set it down because his hands were so shaky and he didn’t want to drop it. He didn’t even know what this painting _cost_ , let alone what Tony went through to get it.

Bucky gaped at the painting resting on the floor against his breakfast island/home office. He wasn’t as big into art as Steve was, but like any Brooklyn public school kid, he’d gone on his fair share of field trips to all the conveniently local art galleries. He knew that an original by any artist with a name he recognized was probably worth more than the entire block. He shook his head, numb with shock.

“That has to be a reproduction or something. That - this can’t be what it looks like. That would be insane. Tony Stark is known to have a sense of humor, right?”

“This is the real thing, Buck. I don’t know how, but it just _is_.”

Steve sat down on the floor and stared at it in silence for the longest time. This was an _incredible_ painting, probably worth hundreds of millions of dollars, and here it was in his crappy studio apartment. They hadn’t even met yet, why would Tony spend this kind of money on him?

And then a horrible thought occurred: what if Tony was trying to buy his affection? He’d heard some things where Tony did that in the past, so it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

“What do you think it means?” Steve asked.

Bucky had been standing frozen, mouth open, hand held out to the side and open, ready to voice an intelligible thought the moment one occurred to him. But all higher brain functions seemed to have gotten stuck like a lingering sneeze. He dropped his hand helplessly.

“I - I think it means we better see if we can get, like, a fucking humidor for fine art or something. We can’t have that thing just sitting around in here absorbing humidity and car exhaust and… and… fucking cooking fumes from curry night. Oh, and I think this Stark guy is a fucking lunatic, is what I think.”

Upon hearing Bucky’s words, Steve gently put the painting back into the crate, safely encased in it’s paper shreddings.

“Do you think he’s trying to impress me with his money? I heard he does that.”

Bucky grabbed the heavy-duty stapler off the table and used it to hammer the lid of the crate back down like he was sealing the ark of the covenant.

“Well, if he was trying to make an impression, I’d say he succeeded.”

“But… this just feels… kind of weird. We haven’t even met yet, and he sent me this painting. It kind of feels like he’s trying to buy me or something.”

Bucky shook his head, still reeling. “Yeah, it definitely feels like that. I mean the only alternative I can think is that he’s an international art thief and wanted to hide this someplace nobody in their right mind would ever look for it. So, yeah, I think you have every right to feel a little _put off_ by the judgement on display here.”

Bucky tried not to pay too much attention to how angry he felt, and his lack of a strictly rational reason. It definitely seemed to want to walk and quack like a kind of jealousy. Steve was his best friend. And this rich guy thought that he could just… he didn’t even know what. In his place. Over his shop. Like he could just walk in and leave his great big mark wherever he wanted. He paced the apartment, trying to calm down.

Steve moved over to his drafting desk and sat down. He had no clue if he could even respond after this. What exactly could he do as a thank you? Or what did people normally do when big billionaires bought them famous paintings? He was just a guy from Brooklyn, he barely had money to his name apart from student loans, and he was sick too often. Romantic Soulmate aside, this was too much too soon. He couldn’t exactly keep the painting, but he also didn’t know what to do with it either.

“I guess… I’ll wait for him to call or something. I don’t want to make him think he can keep sending me stuff like this.”

“Yeah. Tell me about it. I could sell everything I own and still not be able to pay the taxes if you declared this.”

“That painting could be in the Met - _should be_ in the Met, not here.”

Bucky chuckled, having gone all the way through shocked and angry and back around to punchy.

“Yeah, well, so should you. So I guess he has a point there.” He sat back down on the sofa and shook his head. “Interesting times, man.”

***

Tony thought he had done a good job with his selection of a gift. Sophisticated, tasteful, maybe a little over-the-top but that was really just truth in advertising, he figured. So when Steve didn’t call, it started to eat at him from all sides. He triple-checked with the auction house and the security company that the crate had been delivered. He might have sortakinda taken a peek at call data to the garage, just to make sure their phones were working and someone was there. When nothing helped to solve the mystery, he decided to plow his nervous energy into building something in his lab.

Natasha, of course, had noticed Tony’s change in attitude. She also kept track of all of his calls, so she knew he was doing a bit of stalking about the painting (which she of course told Clint about, but not Bucky because then he’d tell Steve). She hadn’t thought it was good to say that the painting was a bad idea since Tony didn’t ask, and from the way Bucky sounded on the phone, she had been right. She went down to the workshop to do her usual check-up on Tony and saw probably five different half built machines that hadn’t been there a week before. Well, she couldn’t stay quiet now, Tony was worrying enough to come up with things that didn’t even matter. And was that a _toothbrush robot_?!

“Hello, Ms. Barnes,” Tony called from under a half-finished mark six mechanical assist arm that was turning out as more of an art piece. “What brings you to my cave of wonders?”

“The fact that you’ve barely left the workshop in three days.”

“Well, I know how it looks-”

“Like the equivalent of a teenage girl crying over a date not calling her back.”

“To the untrained observer, yes,” He retorted. “But actually my recent exercise into trying to express myself through visual art reminded me how long it’s been since I just kinda cut loose and got playful. Do a little engineering-for-engineering’s sake, you know? It’s healthy.” To punctuate his point he grabbed his green juice smoothie and took a long, pointed sip, his eyes locked defiantly on Natasha the entire time.

She just looked unimpressed. “And who the hell needs a toothbrush robot, or whatever that thing with the toothbrush is?”

“You see? See that’s how I know you don’t get it. Not everything has to be about results, sometimes you can do things just to put them out there into the universe and just let them go.”

“And now you are gaslighting to the extreme. Why don’t you just make the first move and call Steve?”

“I can’t be gaslighting you. They’re my feelings. You’re the one trying to… trying to… anyway why does everything have to be about Steve? Just because you know him that doesn’t make everything your business all of a sudden.”

“Because he felt like you were trying to buy him out instead of actually getting to know him. That’s what he said when he saw the painting. And I’m tired of both of you not getting your heads out of your asses. You’re adults, do the adult thing and actually talk to one another.” Natasha said with a raised voice.

Tony bristled. Natasha rarely got angry, but that didn’t leave him feeling any more inclined to being pushed or bullied in his own sanctum.

“Anything else, Ms. Barnes?”

Natasha sighed, and simply walked out. Clearly Tony was being too damn stubborn, and it was her business because it was her boss trying to date her (basically) little brother. She would protect Steve over Tony any day of the week, and if that meant trying to get Tony off of his ass to act like an adult, so be it.

Tony picked up his torque wrench, hefted it a few times to try and remember what he’d been doing before she’d interrupted him, and slung it across the floor to skid into the wall. He was in no mood to be told what he had to do as if he hadn’t been working at it as sincerely as his own insecurities would let him at every opportunity. He was definitely in no mood to let his assistant treat him like his whole world getting thrown up in the air was something that was happening to her, and like he ought to curate his confusion to better suit his employee. He was aware as anyone of what a pain in the ass he was, probably moreso, and even he didn’t think he had deserved that level of disrespect.

Fuck her.

“Hey Jarvis.” He called to the air.

_“Sir?”_

“Call Steve Rogers. Send it to my phone.”

_“Glad to see Ms. Barnes’ advice has come through, Sir.”_

“And revoke her credentials to enter my shop.”

_“Of course.”_

Steve was at the coffee shop he was supposed to meet Tony at. It honestly made him feel a bit sad that their coffee date never happened, but he would survive. Like he thought before, Tony Stark had nothing to lose if things went South with him-.

And his phone rang with Tony Stark’s name on the caller ID.

He immediately picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Steve. Tony. Stark.”

“I’m glad to hear from you.”

“Oh good. I’d kinda been given the opposite impression. Look, I’m sorry about the painting. I won’t bother you anymore.”

Steve blinked with a pause. “What makes you think I want that?”

“Well, my assistant just told me it upset you, and she knows everything so, yanno, I’m just trying to apologize and stop making life so inconvenient among your circle of friends.”

“I’m not mad at you, I just… I’d heard you did that for other people and…” What the fuck was he trying to say? Goddammit, Rogers, get it together. “In terms of making a first impression, buying someone an extremely expensive painting isn’t the way to go.”

Tony nodded. “I hear you. I hear you. So, yeah, just, sorry for the whole mix-up. It’s not you it’s me, yatta yatta yatta, I get it.”

“I don’t want you to stop talking to me.” Steve urged. “You didn’t mess up _that_ badly.”

Tony tried to maintain his fit of pique, keep his eyes on the exit and put his foot down, but Steve’s voice was just so disarming he couldn’t help just letting it go.

“Well that’s good to hear.” He wiped his eyes with a dirty hand and cleared his throat. “I’d really like you to keep the painting. I’d rather live in a world where it’s with you. My friend Pepper showed it to me and it was like it belonged to you in my head. I’ve already had my lawyer do the paperwork, you won’t have to pay a cent in taxes or anything. And if you’re worried about keeping it in good condition you could always lend it to a gallery. I just want you to have it. As a thank you. Because it’s like you reached right into my heart and pulled out exactly the piece of artwork I wanted and couldn’t do for myself, and there’s no paying for that, you know? I didn’t know what else to do.”

Steve swore he couldn’t breathe for a moment. That was just… he didn’t know what it was, but it was nothing he’d ever heard before. He couldn’t exactly think of anything else to say but,

“Um… that’s…” He put his phone on mute for a second, took a deep breath, and unmuted it. “Then… let’s do a proper meeting. Where we get coffee or something and talk face to face.”

“Yeah. I’d like that. But, listen, you should know about me, right up front, if you didn’t already, I’m kind of a pretentious asshole. Like, I practically re-invented the form for my generation. I get all antsy in public. People get touchy and stuff. So, if it wouldn’t make you feel too, I dunno, bribed or whatever, would you let me take you for coffee my way? No strings, gold or otherwise, I swear to god. I just want to have a snowball’s chance of acting like myself.”

Steve chuckled. “I think I can determine that for myself when we meet. Then you should know about me that I’m incredibly stubborn and if I see someone doing something to someone else, I’ll always try to step in. That usually results in some bruises and the occasional broken nose, so I hope you’re ready for getting calls from an ER every now and again.”

“I think I can handle that. Are you free tomorrow? I’ll send a car.”

“Yeah. But I’d rather take the subway to get wherever we’re going. I just don’t want any fancy treatment before we… figure things out, I guess.”

“I get it. I do. Honestly, though, this is how all the talent at my company gets treated. Strictly for convenience. I know artists have trouble with schedules sometimes, it’s just easier for everyone if you can blame the car. But I get it. However you wanna go. Meet me at Ferrera’s on Grand Street tomorrow. Name a time.”

“How does 2 sound?”

“Like you read my mind.”

“Who knows if I did at this point.”

“Heh, yeah. Coffee can only make this worse.”

“So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Definitely. And hey, lemme ask you something.”

“Okay..?”

“Do you think the world is ready for a toothbrush robot?”

Steve laughed hard enough that he had to hold onto his stomach with his free hand. What the fuck was Tony building at his company in his free time?

“Depends on what that even is, because it sounds ridiculous.”

Tony nodded. “Oh well. Good thing I’m ok with being a visionary. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

And Steve hung up, smiling like an idiot and fist bumping the air. He fucking got a date with Tony Stark! He could actual do this!

Tony put his phone down and sank into the chair at the bank of graphic design stations he liked to think of as his cockpit. He felt sweaty and uneasy and out of breath. So this was dating. He went ahead and shut down his stations manually one at a time and went up for a shower and about sixteen hours of sleep.

***

“How is it I own nothing that works for this!?” Steve said as he rummaged through his pile of clothing he’d dumped on the floor.

Clint shrugged. “I dunno man. You hate shopping. You’re frequently broke. It’s a complete mystery.”

Bucky shot Clint a look. “So you’re just in a permanent mood now? This is just the helpfulness setting you’re stuck on?”

Clint ignored him airily. “What about the flannel? That’s kind of retro.”

“He’ll think I’m one of those stuck up hipsters.”

Bucky admitted. “I mean, it’s not like you’ll be that far from Brooklyn…”

“And do you forget that this is one of the best bakeries in the city? And I usually can’t afford  even one of those cannolis?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Yes. Because you haven’t reminded us in three whole minutes. Look, if you don’t wanna look like a guy who’s obsessed with how you look, stop obsessing about how you look. It’s not hard.”

Clint grinned. “Yeah, Bucky does it all the time.”

“And he’s got muscle to make up for for the lack of caring.”

He was absolutely _fucked_ . How the hell was he going to make a good impression on _Tony Stark_ with… okay, maybe the ripped black skinny jeans could work. So resolutely, he put them on the bed.

Bucky sat down on the low dresser next to where Clint had perched himself. “Look, you just spent a week agonizing over how you didn’t want him to think he could buy you. And he can’t. You gotta keep up that mindset. You don’t gotta live up to his world. You don’t gotta pay him back for anything. Anybody that’s out with you, your presence is paying for itself, you got me? Anything else is just going to make you miserable.”

Steve sat down on the bed with a sigh. Even though Bucky was his Platonic Soulmate, he was probably right. Tony had made the effort after just seeing his sketches and a phone call, so there was probably hope. He looked down what he was wearing at the moment, sweats and a blue hoodie. Okay, he could put on the ripped skinny jeans with the hoodie and it could look cool but also laid back.

“What time is it?”

Clint poked his phone. “Almost noon.”

“Should I wear my contacts? Maybe bring a sketchbook?”

“Nah, you get nervous when your contacts get dry.” Bucky opined. “Sketchbook might look too much like business at this point.”

“But usually people like when I bring my sketches, they always ask to look at them.”

Bucky shrugged. He begrudgingly accepted that it was out of his hands, and none of his business.

“You know what? He’s your Soulmate. Whatever you think is right probably is.” He headed to the kitchen to make a sandwich.

Steve sighed. “Since he liked the car sketches before, I think it’s only fair that he sees my other work.”

Clint nodded. “You’re probably better off not trying to figure out Bucky’s advice. He’s kinda stupid lately. Your sketches are good. You should take ‘em.”

Bucky took his sandwich down to the shop.

“I must be desperate if I’m thinking you’re right.” Steve admitted.

Clint hopped off the dresser. “That’s kinda how these things go. Confused, to excited, to desperate, and then pretty much right back to confused. I don’t know why anyone puts up with it.” He seemed a little too serious for his smile.

Steve raised an eyebrow, but let it go. Now wasn’t the time to bring up how strangely informed Clint was with the subject. Steve could do this. He could make a good first impression. At least he didn’t have the money to buy a multi-million dollar painting and send it to Tony.

***

Tony strolled into Ferrara’s, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. He’d agonized about how far down to dress to keep from attracting attention, and the last-second check of his low-key casual look in the shop window wasn’t leaving him any surer of his choices. But at least it was objectively comfortable.

He walked in, looked left, and there he was. He’d done a little light googling during his fit of anxious stalkery nonsense, but there had only been an old newspaper photo from a local art show with a bunch of blurry faces. He hadn’t even turned up a yearbook or anything, and had stopped himself before getting too crazy and hacking the DMV or anything. He’d told Jarvis never to let him do that again anyway.

But it was definitely him, sandy sharp-jawed head bent over a sketchbook in the corner.  

Steve got the feeling that he was being watched, and when he looked up, he was, by Tony. They locked eyes, and didn’t say or do anything for a moment. Steve couldn’t believe they even made it this far… and how the hell did a guy like him get to be Soulmates with someone as good looking as that? He was in a hoodie with an ACDC logo, jeans, and looked incredibly nervous. Steve didn’t know what to do, so he awkwardly waved at Tony.

Tony raised a hand in reply. He gestured at the counter with his thumb, then pointed at Steve in question. He repeated the gesture a couple times _Wanna order? Should I come to you instead?_ Before Steve could decide, he snap-clapped out of his awkward paralysis and headed towards where Steve was sitting to try words. Words were good. He could do words.

Steve swore he could hear his heartbeat in his ears as Tony walked to him. This was it, actually talking to him in real life. What the hell did he say? What did normal people say when they met someone again? He forgot, and he needed to say something because now he was in front of Steve.

Tony held out his right hand. “Hey, you must be Steve. Actually-” He dropped his hand and opened his arms. “Do you hug? I’m kind of a hugger. Except when I’m not. For you, I’m thinking definitely a hugger.”

“Um… I… guess…?” Steve awkwardly got up, and felt uncomfortable but also excited at the same time. Gently, he wrapped his arms around Tony’s torso and swore he was as red as a tomato as he did it. And he actually felt safe when Tony wrapped his arms around his shoulders. And wow did he smell nice.

Tony pulled Steve in for a stiff business-bro hug that quickly melted into something altogether different. Instead of popping Steve on the shoulder blades with a firm no-homo pat, he found himself just holding him, like a friend just home from war. And oh god, how could anyone real smell like that?

Steve almost didn’t want to let go, but he knew if he didn’t he’d be getting weird looks. So reluctantly, he unwrapped his arms from Tony and asked, “Do you want to sit down? I haven’t ordered yet.”

Tony cleared his throat, trying not to stare. He wasn’t prepared for the charming little way the edges of Steve’s mouth moved when he talked. Not in conjunction with the full brunt of that voice, unmediated by the tinniness of cell phones. Fortunately his years as a (highly neurotic) international businessman had taught him a lot of tools for breaking up interpersonal stage-fright.

“Yeah, I’d love to. But tell me what you want and I’ll go order first. The food takes forever here but I promise it’s worth the wait.”

“I’ll take some dark chocolate gelato, if that’s okay.” Steve said as he sat down.

“Yeah, totally, be right back.” Tony scythed through the crowd to the counter and over-ordered only slightly before he headed back to the table and sat down. “They’ll call. When it’s ready.”

Steve nodded, and looked at the enormous crowd. “I usually don’t go to places like this. Way out of my price range.” And he realized his second statement. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. And I’m not expecting you to just pay for everything, I’ll pay for what I can.”

“So…” Tony took a deep breath and mustered up his sincerity in a deep effort to drop his facade far enough that Steve might trust him. “I’m used to not needing to worry about money. And I get that that’s not everyone’s life, and there’s this big social dominance bullshit about money but, seriously, it would cost me far more to start trying to worry about money than it costs me to just pay for things, you know? Anyway, you got us this great table. You know what that’s worth in this town?”

“The price of the car Bucky’s working on?”

Tony chuckled. “More than that. Probably a lot more. There’s about fifty other rich assholes that have that same car right now, or have it on order. I’m the only guy in the world that gets to sit in this chair. At this table. With you. So stop acting like there’s a price tag for that, ok?”

Steve’s eyes widened, and he couldn’t help but exhale. “Are you usually this deep?”

“Definitely not. I’m actually kind of scaring myself right now.” He smiled in a way he desperately, desperately hoped was relaxed and charming.

It was pretty obvious that both of them were having freakouts on their own. Thankfully, Steve had something to remedy that, which meant Bucky was wrong about it looking like business.

“Do you want to look at my sketches?” He asked as he held the small sketchbook up. “It’s usually a good ice breaker.”

Tony shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah, sure. I’d love to.” He took the book with a stab of apprehension, unsure of whether things were going to become uncomfortably businesslike. “So do you have an official portfolio or are you mostly-?” He flipped the cover. “Oh wow, that’s really good. Your eye for composition, man, I gotta say. Where did you study?”

“My mom actually taught me to start out, but I go to NYU. I’m finishing my last year, actually.”

Tony nodded, flipping through slowly and trying not to exclaim over every page. “So what’s after school? Like what’s your dream?”

Steve shrugged. “I wanted to join the army when I was 18, and get deployed with Bucky, but they said I had too many health issues to be enlisted. Art was more of a second option.”

“Well shit,” Tony nodded, not looking up. “I’d say that’s a good thing. If you happened to be as good at war as you are at drawing, there’d probably be too many dead people in the world.”

“Well if I had enlisted, I wouldn’t have met you, so there’s that.”

Tony smiled but didn’t answer, continuing to flip through. “So you keep mentioning ‘issues’. You mind if I ask? Your feet flat or something? I mean, if it’s none of my business, I get it.”

Steve leaned back in his chair and had a contemplative look on his face. Sometimes it was hard to remember every single issue he’d been diagnosed with in the past.

“Heart murmur, several cases of the flu, asthma, scoliosis, scarlet fever, deafness in my left ear from an infection, horrible vision, but I don’t even know if I named them all.” He hadn’t, but the last one would wait for a while.

Tony nodded and carefully gripped his tongue between his teeth. He had an awful habit of immediately trying to make suggestions and offer solutions where he had no business being. Instead he let what Steve was saying sink in. Illness in general didn’t bother him too much, and he had to acknowledge that he found Steve’s litany of ailments intimidating not because of any barrier it might present, but because it made him think that Steve was clearly kind of a low-key badass for getting as far as he had in life.

“So did Barnes lose that arm to try to keep up with you or something?”

Steve cringed at the memories that came along with Bucky’s arm. All of those months trying different antidepressants, going from therapist to therapist, nightmares of gunfire and smoke. It was hard to get through, but Steve stayed by Bucky’s side through all of it. Bucky getting over his PTSD was so much harder than getting used to using one arm.

“Can we not talk about it?”

“Sure. You wanna ask me something wildly inappropriate instead?”

Steve chuckled, and did have one question in particular. “Why did you sleep with all of those people? What exactly was the goal with that?”

“Wow, going full Barbara Walters on the first date. I can respect that.” He cleared his throat. “So just so I got this straight, you’re asking me to justify my sex life to you? Bold choice.”

“Well considering what the big connection between us is, I feel like I should know.”

“I guess you could say that the goal was to have one part of my life without a goal. Your turn. Does that make you uncomfortable?”

“People can do whatever they want.”

“I’m not asking about people. I’m asking about you. Does my being a massive slut make you uncomfortable to be around me?”

“I’m not uncomfortable being around you because of it… I guess I’m just… wondering if I’ll be another notch in the bedpost. Because that’s happened a few times and it never ended well.”

Tony softened a little and leaned forward with his forearms on the table. “That’s fair. If you’re not prepared to trust me, I get that there’s not a lot I can say that you wouldn’t just take as some kind of line, though. And to be honest this is my first time doing this highly specific kind of weirdness myself, so anything I try to tell you about how I am with a Romantic Soulmate would be me talking out my ass anyway. But lemme ask you. Do you really think that’s what’s gonna happen here? I mean, I’m not gonna walk if the answer is yes, I just wanna know what I’m starting from. Do you think that’s what I’m gonna do?”

Steve didn’t say anything for a moment, just gathered his thoughts the best he could.

“I’ve only dated three guys. One kept me as a dirty secret, the other slept with me once then left. Then I wanted to actually wait with the third guy, and he got tired of waiting so he slept with a woman. It’s stupid, but I think there’s this deep-seated fear that it’ll happen every time I find someone even remotely attractive. And in between those exes I’ve only been on first dates, rarely ever make it to the second date, so…”

Tony grinned. “Well we’ve got that in common. I think my overall mutual-satisfaction rate has been a little higher, but I’m not exactly worn out on actual dating.” He shrugged.

He knew he was being too flip, but he’d spent his whole post-pubescent life being analized in the press for his life choices, and he was well-beyond over it. Or at least he had been. The fact that Steve’s question made him want to take a serious accounting of his intentions was upsetting, but also kind of refreshing. Like an intriguing new problem or… something way more serious than that, even. It felt like giving a shit. And he didn’t hate it.

“So you didn’t usually buy all those people dinner before you took them to bed?”

“Well sure I did. I’m not an ogre. I mean ‘all those people’ is a pretty big category, and sometimes we would just meet at a party and maybe catch breakfast the next morning but… I mean, I never went to bed with anyone who wanted more than a good time from me, if that’s what you mean. I don’t wine and dine gullible young college students with big promises and flashy gifts and then break their hearts. I go to bed with people that like to go to bed without worrying about a lot of social calculus.”

“But I’m not exactly ‘young’ either. I’m 30.”

Tony’s eyebrows went up and he gave a low whistle. “Then I apparently need to keep buying you dinner until I can wheedle your skin care regimen out of you.” He grinned.

“Well it’d be impossible for you, so no luck there.”

A voice from the counter yelled. “Toby!”

Tony sighed and hung his head. “I get the feeling I’m Toby. Hold that thought. I’ll be right back, and I love a challenge.”

He gathered a tray with two cups of gelato, two cannoli, one latte, one hot chocolate, and a packet of mini-churros. He pirouetted his way back to the table through the crowd and set it down with a flair.

“So you have a choice of caffeinated or non-caffeinated sugar-milk…”

Steve’s eyes widened at the amount of food Tony sat on the table. “I can definitely see why you decided on a painting now. And I’ll take the second choice.”

“Excellent Monsieur.” Tony laid out Steve’s order primly and left the churros on the table between them. He dipped one in his coffee and leaned in. “So tell me this impossible skin care secret so I can pine in envy forever.”

Steve took a bite of his gelato, and had to stop himself from moaning at the absolutely amazing texture and taste in his mouth. “I’m waiting for if we do another date, and another date after that.”

“Fair. But wouldn’t you feel better if you told me now and I came back anyway?”

“Tony… in all seriousness… it’s kind of a big thing, and… I’ll tell you when I’m ready, okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah sure. No problem.” He took a bite of his gelato and moaned loudly. “Holy shit, I’ve never tried the gelato here. I owe you dinner just for getting me to try this.”

Steve laughed. “Thank you for having the reaction I wanted to have. Now I feel like less of an idiot.”

“Making people feel like less of an idiot is my specialty.”

The conversation flowed easily after that. It turned out Tony and Steve liked the same baseball team, Tony pranked his friend Rhodey at MIT, and Steve confessed that he’d never been out of New York City apart from field trips. The baked goods were amazing as well, and all in all, it was a great first date. About two hours later, the two of them wormed through the crowd and onto an empty part of the sidewalk.

“Thanks for this. I don’t think I’ll look at store-bought gelato the same.”

Tony feigned shock. “They sell it in stores?!” He grinned at his own joke and edged a little closer to Steve. “So can I walk you to your subway tunnel or…?”

Steve shrugged. “Sure.” He said with a smile.

They walked a few blocks to the subway station and down the stairs to the tunnel. They kept up an easy conversation until they reached the ticket section.

“Actually, it’s a nice night, we could walk across the bridge. If you felt up for it.”

“Sorry, but my asthma would act up if I did that.”

“I hear you. Ok.” Tony took another little step towards him and leaned a little to one side, cocking his head speculatively like he was thinking of giving Steve a kiss on the cheek and waiting for a cue as to whether it was all right.

Steve took a step forward and hugged Tony like he did earlier, which was safer. He realized he really liked hugging Tony. It felt familiar but alien at the same time.

Tony hugged him back, sighing audibly. “I don’t wanna let go. But I’m gonna.” He demonstrated, taking a couple meandering steps backwards. “See this is me. Respectful. And I’m gonna call you tomorrow. Because that’s the kind of guy I am. Now. Apparently.”

Steve chuckled. “I was thinking of calling you though, so you’ve kind of ruined my chance.”

Tony narrowed his eyes like a gunslinger, hovering his hand over the pocket where he kept his phone. “You think you can dial faster than me, punk?”

This actually made Steve laughed. Why the hell were they being so childish? Steve was usually way more mature than this.

“I’m a gentleman, so I’ll _let you_ call me first.”

Tony grinned a little wistfully. “Yeah, I figured. I just wanted to hear you laugh again. Have you ever heard you laugh? It’s amazing.”

A blush creeped onto Steve’s cheeks and he looked down at his shoes. He wasn’t used to being complimented like this. It was… nice.

“Thanks.”

Tony gave an awkward little wave and headed for the stairs. He skipped up to street level two at a time, pretty sure that he was falling hard.

Steve couldn’t stop smiling on the whole train ride back to Brooklyn. He knew he was getting a few weird stares, but he couldn’t help it. Maybe he’d actually have a shot at this.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to follow me on twitter and Instagram. Both are under the user @roryqpotter


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory Steve gets sick chapter. And a second date ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: body dysphoria, masturbation.

As usual for Fall, Steve got sick with a cold, and it was a pretty bad one too. He could barely breathe through his nose, he was coughing up a lung, and could barely get up to go to the bathroom. The cold medicine was also making him a bit delirious, so Bucky had confiscated his phone in case Steve did something stupid. And Bucky had called over Steve’s friend Sam to look after him while he was in the shop.

Sam brought Steve a glass of water and set it on the nightstand. “You need anything else right now?”

“A hug would be nice…” Steve mumbled.

“You know I love you, man, but you are not making those germs look like a ton of fun.” Sam leaned down anyway and planted a kiss on the part of Steve’s hair.

“I meant from Tony, but that’s okay too.”

Sam made a playfully insulted noise and strode back to the dining table where he’d set up his work-from-home laptop. “I don’t know which you got worse, the influenza or the Tony Stark.”

“Tony could make a robot to watch me instead of you.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah. Some kinda unblinking thing with cyber-tentacles hovering over you. That would be soothing, I bet.”

“But it’d be nice if Tony was here… just him… and…” Steve passed out cold.

Sam shook his head. “Yeah, get some sleep. If you think Tony Stark knows how to make a glass of water you’re clearly delirious.”

Bucky was irritated as he helped Clint with Stark’s car. He should have been upstairs taking care of Steve, but they also had bills to pay, so he was stuck in the garage. He was happy that Steve suggested that he take his phone. Last time he was high on cold meds and had his phone he’d texted Thor that he was in love with him. Bucky had to explain later that Steve was sick.

And speaking of Steve’s phone, it started to ring in his pocket. Bucky walked away from the car and looked at the caller ID on the phone. Tony Stark, so this would be awkward.

“Hello?”

“Oh, hi. Barnes? Shoot, did I hit the wrong-”

“No, you called Steve’s phone. He just isn’t allowed to have it right now.”

“Ok. Um, two questions. You can probably guess.”

“He’s sick and high on cold medicine. Mixing that with having his phone isn’t a good idea.”

“Aw jeez. I’m sorry to hear that. Could I maybe talk to him for a minute? With adult supervision and all?”

“Well he’s being watched by his friend Sam, so he should be fine. He’s probably asleep anyway.”

“Ok, well.” Tony fidgeted with a pen. “Does he need anything? I could...” He tried to think of something that wouldn’t sound like too much and didn’t come up with anything before it officially got awkward.

“He’ll be fine. Probably out of commission for a few days, but he has everything he needs for now.”

“Ok, um, great. Could you maybe tell him I called, if you get a chance? Also I was probably going to be in the neighborhood today. So if you think of anything, or if he does, you have my number.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him. And don’t worry too much, okay? He’ll be fine.”

Tony slid his thumb over the receiver and muttered, “Yeah, right, nurse ratched,” then responded. “Yeah, I’m sure he’s in good hands. Well, I’ll let you get back to it. Thanks.”

“Take care.” And Bucky hung up.

Tony sat at his desk, suddenly wondering if he was coming down with something himself. His throat did feel a little scratchy. What if that was a Soulmate thing? If he was feeling a little scratchy… and feverish? Yeah, definitely feverish, too, from half a borough away, how sick was Steve? A couple days sounded pretty serious. As did the fact that they’d had to call a friend to help. He felt himself, or possibly Steve, start to sweat and get a headache.

Thankfully, he was brought out of his thoughts with a call from Rhodey, and he picked up.

“Hey man.” Tony definitely sounded hoarse to himself.

“Hey Tony. You sick?”

“Oh, crap, is it that obvious?”

“You definitely sound it. Did you work yourself to death again like you do every other week?”

“No. What? I don’t do that. Shut up. No, it’s this friend of mine. I think I’m having sympathy death.”

“You mean the Soulmate you went on a date with?” Tony could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “And before you ask, Pepper told me.”

“Well yeah, I guessed that Pepper told you, because it wouldn’t have been your keen sense of empathy. And yes, he’s my Soulmate. And I think he might be dying. I should probably go over there, don’t you think?”

“No way. You’ve only been on one date, you don’t get to play nurse after one date.”

“Yeah, I hear you, but let me counter that by saying that I think it might be serious. And I really want to. And also his roommate took his phone away, who does that?”

“Did he say why?”

“I think you’re missing the point here, frankly. Your judgement might be biased.”

“But I also know how you get obsessed over things. Usually it’s robots, but you’re definitely obsessing over this guy.”

Tony scratched his neck. Was he getting a rash? Had Steve gotten adult-onset chicken pox? He’d heard that could be bad.

“Ok, first of all, I’m not obsessed and second of all why am I not allowed to be obsessed over my own Soulmate? Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do? Are you seriously going to sit there and be Lord Capulet to Barnes’ Montague?”

“When you get obsessed over something, you  _ only _ focus on that one thing. And usually Pepper or I have to snap you out of it so you don’t make shitty business decisions over it. I get he’s your Soulmate, but you also need to divide your focus on other important things.”

“Did you call me for a reason or are you just doing evil stepmother improv right now?”

“Well I was getting symptoms of serious worry, and I was right.”

“So you got worried and you checked up on me. Like a good Soulmate is supposed to do. Great! Thanks Rhodey, I knew you’d never steer me wrong.” Tony hung up and got his jacket.

Traffic just getting to the bridge was at an absolute crawl. Tony tried calling Steve’s phone again, but there was no answer and no voicemail. He thought if he didn’t have something to distract him just a little he was going to make a bad traffic decision, so he called Bruce.

“Hello?”

“Hey Doc. What’s up?”

“Grading some quizzes. Not exactly going well. I fear for this class’ grades.”

“That sounds rough. Hey, so if someone you loved was dying of tuberculosis you’d go see them, right?”

Bruce didn’t say anything for a moment, but responded, “I’d go see them for their last moments. Why are you asking me this?”

“See, because Rhodey disagrees with that, and I just can’t get over it. And I can’t believe the traffic today, it’s insane.” He cleared his throat.

There was a corner store up ahead. Maybe he would stop and get some flowers. Or lozenges. Something.

“You didn’t answer my question: why are you asking?”

“Because it just blows my mind to think that anyone wouldn’t think it was ok for me to go visit a friend when they’re sick is all. I needed your calm rational opinion, and I’m glad you agree with me. I felt like I was going crazy there for a second.”

“Being sick and  _ dying _ are two very different things. Is this friend being taken care of?”

“Well yes. By a friend who went to see him. Like I’m doing. Because that’s how this works, being friends with someone, right? It’s what you do!” Tony was pretty sure he sounded way too argumentative, but it was important.

“I guess, but it also depends on who is sick, how close they are in your personal circle, and how sick they are. There are plenty of variables to consider.”

“So if I think of them as very close, and I’m pretty sure they’re very sick, that counts, right?”

“But you also said they’re being taken care of.”

Tony huffed petulantly. “Why are you being difficult?”

“I’m just trying to understand.”

Tony set his jaw. “It’s Steve, ok? Steve is sick. Very sick. I can feel it in my… in my pores, ok? And I’m freaking out.”

Again Bruce was silent, for a longer time, and sounded like he was shifting papers around on his desk.

“Okay.”

“And I know you all think I’m an obsessive spoiled nutjob who’s just latched onto something new and shiney but I’m kinda having feelings over here. And everyone’s acting like they know better about that, and they don’t.”

“... I had a Romantic Soulmate.”

That stopped Tony as surely as the Brooklyn Bridge traffic. “You did?”

“Her name was Betty, we worked together in my old facility. We were engaged for two years before… the accident happened.”

“Wow. Wow man. I’m sorry. You never said. How did you… I mean… did you wanna talk about it?”

“I’m telling you because I understand how you’re feeling, probably better than anyone. I also know that boundaries are necessary in any relationship. You can do what you want, but being Romantic Soulmates doesn’t give you a free pass to do certain things.”

Tony huffed a sigh. “Ok. Ok that’s fair. I just… this isn’t me and Steve setting the boundaries though. This is his roommate and my friends who apparently all think I’m an idiot and I just, I  _ feel _ like he wants me there. Like I don’t wanna give the guy a sponge bath or anything, I just want to say hi, leave some flowers if he’s gonna be sick a few days. Just let him know that I’m there. That I’m on board. And I know that’s not really my M.O. but it doesn’t feel crazy either. I’ve felt crazy before, and this isn’t it. I’ve never felt like this before, man. Not ever. About anything. Like, set my garage on fire, just let Steve be ok, you know?”

“Yeah, I do. Just keep in mind that you don’t have to be attached by the hip moving forward. It’ll lead to problems of privacy and could hurt the relationship. Okay?”

“Okay. I’m not gonna go charging in. I promise. I’ll just… I’ll just take over one little thing. So when he does wake up he’ll have some evidence that I’m thinking about him. It sounds like he gets sick a lot, so I feel like I need him to know I’m on board for that, you know? Like it doesn’t scare me. Which is a lie, I guess, considering how much sweat is on my steering wheel right now, but you know what I mean. I’m down for it, even though it scares me stupid.”

“It’s good that you’re doing that. And it sounds like Steve really needs that support.”

Tony felt himself tearing up. “Thanks man. You… you’ve got no idea how bad I just needed someone to tell me I’m not messing everything up. And you’re right, I do need to check myself. But I feel like no one else understands what this is like. I mean I know it happens to, what, half of the population?”

“50% find their Romantic Soulmate, meanwhile 85% find their Platonic Soulmate if they have one. And 17% don’t have a Soulmate of any kind. You’re lucky you have three Soulmates, that’s more than 79% of people with Soulmates.”

“It is neither weird nor scary that you know that. The obsessive genius in me bows to the obsessive genius in you. Nerdmaste.”

“Thank you, and try not to get sick. Pretty sure you have that demonstration for the Air Force in a week.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna stock up on zinc and vitamin C and maybe… Wait how did you know about the demo?“

“Natasha invited me for feedback. But mostly to observe.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Ok, neat. Well, I’ll see you there, but we should definitely hang out before that if you have time.”

“I’ll see if I have time. Take care, and tell Steve I’ll have his work ready for him when he gets better.”

“Oh you have him? He has you? You’re… had? Ok, yeah, if I actually get up to see him. And he’s lucid.”

“See you, Tony.”

***

Steve woke up to a strange feeling… like someone important was in the apartment. Maybe he was still feeling weird from the cold medication. But then he heard Sam and someone else’s voice by the front door near his bed. He rubbed his eyes and grabbed his glasses.

“Sam, who’s here?”

Tony sucked breath between his teeth nervously. “It’s not important, didn’t mean to wake you up. Just heard you were sick and was in the neighborhood. Sam’s got it, go back to sleep.”

“No, it’s okay.” Steve said raspily as he pulled the covers over his chest. “Good to have some company.”

Sam sighed, giving Tony a far mellower version of the protective hairy eyeball than Bucky had given him downstairs.

“You gonna be here for a little bit? Cause I could take a walk.”

Tony tried not to look too manically delighted. “Sure, yeah, I’m on my lunch and I kinda own the company, so, yeah, if you need a break.”

“It’s okay, Sam, be back in 15.” Steve assured, and definitely feeling less loopy than before.

Tony went over to the side of the bed, snagging the chair from Steve’s drafting table and seating himself by Steve. He set down a paper grocery bag on the floor and leaned in.

“How you feeling?”

“Like crap.”

Tony smiled. “Yeah, well you look like a million bucks worth… of… crap… honestly. Damn, Barnes says this happens to you pretty often huh?”

He looked at the neat array of things on the far table, pill bottles and a nebulizer and some kind of spirometer. It was all a little intimidating.

“If even one person has it, I’ll probably catch it. It’s always been like that.”

“Hey, can’t blame the germs for loving you. I brought you some stuff. Because that’s how I show love, apparently.” He gave a self-deprecating shrug. 

“What’d you bring?”

“Ok, well… and just so you know, this is in no way me trying to buy your affection, ok? This is 100% me servicing my own ego by showing off. Just so we’re clear.”

“I’ll take your word for it. And I will absolutely love it if you brought gummy worms, the sour kind.”

When Steve’s sinuses clogged up, he tended to eat sour or salty food to taste  _ something _ . His usual go-to for being sick was sour gummy worms.

Tony glowed like an especially excited lightning bug, rummaging in his bag. “Kind of. I hope the two-flavor tropical kind are ok.”

“Any are okay.” Steve said with a bright smile.

“So yeah, you got those. I brought you some honey. And this.” He pulled out a weird little grey oval about the size of a skipping stone. “It’s kind of like a digital recorder. But it connects to this.” He pulled out a grey band that looked like a wristwatch. “It’s kind of like a fitbit. So it can tell if you doze off in the middle of an audiobook or something and switch over to ocean sounds or… well there’s a lot of stuff you can choose from. I can get it set up if you want. You’d said your eyes aren’t great so I figured if you were gonna be down for a couple days you might not want to have to read with your eyes.”

Steve didn’t say anything for a moment, and just stared at the items in Tony’s hand. That audiobook thing was honestly really thoughtful. He hated how he had to have Sam pause his audio when he fell asleep. 

“Oh! And the best part. I forgot.” Tony reached into his pocket. “So, I designed this wireless earbud to be dishwasher safe. You can just boil it once you’re feeling better and keep using it, and not worry about giving yourself an ear infection or something.” He held out the single earbud with a letter “R” on the stem. 

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, I mean, I did it last year, they just haven’t gone to market yet. I have a box of them. And now you have one. You can have two if you want I just remember you said your left ear doesn’t work so good.”

“I usually use a hearing aid in my left ear… but I take it out if I talk to my friend Thor.”

“I feel like there’s a story there, and yet I know pretty much what it is.”

“He’s really loud. I use my left ear when we’re on the phone so I don’t make my hearing worse.”

“Smart.” Tony just beamed at Steve for a few long seconds. “I’m glad I could come see you.”

“I am too… and I’m pretty sure I asked for you when I was high earlier.” He couldn’t help but blush a bit.

Tony grinned. “I don’t wanna wear you out. Why don’t I set you up with a book and we can just chill until Sam gets back. What do you like?”

“The Outsiders.”

“Can do.” Tony fiddled with the little oval, then held out the grey band. “Here, gimme your hand.”

Steve held out his left hand and let Tony put the grey band on.

“So I just want you to know, it did cross my mind to enable this thing to send me your temperature and heart rate stats, because I’m a crazy person, but I rejected that idea because I am not a  _ dangerous _ crazy person.”

“Glad to hear.” Steve took off his glasses and sat them on the nightstand next to his bed.

Tony got the simple velcro band attached and set Steve’s hand down on the bed, leaving his with it. When Steve didn’t move his away, Tony gently covered it and gave it a little squeeze, and just stayed like that until Sam came back.

***

Another day, another shot in the thigh. Steve had thankfully recovered from his horrible cold after three days, and Tony visiting him had made him feel a lot better (emotionally, at least)... so why was he nervous about the possibility of a second date? Answer: he’d have to tell Tony the truth of his gender identity.

Steve stared at himself in the full length mirror of the bathroom. He always took his hormones after his shower, and as usual, he felt like he was deformed when he stared at his reflection. How was Tony supposed to love this? He was a weird amalgamation of male and female parts, and all because he didn’t have the money to fix it. And he didn’t want Tony to pay a dime for it, no matter what.

There was firm knock at the front door, and Bucky hauled himself up from a dining table full of shop paperwork to answer. Natasha stood there with another sheaf of papers. Bucky sighed.

“Non Disclosures for the Starkmobile?”

“No, I still have paperwork on my day off, and I wanted someone to share my misery with.”

“Pull up a mug of pens and have a seat.” He gestured magnanimously to the other vinyl kitchen chair.

Natasha took a chair at the end of the kitchen table and got out a blue pen. She couldn’t believe how much paperwork the paparazzi caused her on a weekly basis, and she rarely had an  _ actual _ day off. She noticed the painting crate next to the kitchen island.

“Why haven’t you done anything with the painting?”

Bucky shrugged his free shoulder and kept writing. “Safest place for it until Steve decides what to do about it. He’s thinking of lending it to a museum to keep it nice, but there are a bunch of places to choose from and he’s… he’s been a little preoccupied.”

Natasha sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know what’s wrong with them.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and sighed in agreement. “I get what’s up with Steve. It’s your boss I think is insane.”

He tried not to jab at the paper too much as he filled out emissions paperwork. Steve had bad days about his body. His dysphoria didn’t drive him to bed for days like it used to, but it still managed to eat up a lot of his time, and Bucky didn’t like how the whole Stark thing seemed to be stressing him out. 

Natasha could tell what Bucky was thinking. He had a tell of picking up on how Steve was feeling, and usually it was about one big thing in particular. She hated when Steve had days like that, and it took a lot of support and encouragement to get him through it. It was even worse before Steve figured out who he really was.

“Do you want me to talk to Steve?”

Bucky nodded a little guiltily. “Yeah, I’m not much help. I mean, I can keep him fed, but I just am not on the same page with him and he doesn’t wanna hear anything bad about Tony at all so… yeah, you get what Stark is up to better than I ever will.”

Natasha nodded, got up, and went to the bathroom door. She gently knocked and called Steve’s name through the door.

“Are you okay?”

Steve realized he’d just been standing in front of the mirror for ten minutes, and rubbed his eyes. Fuck, he hated when he got like this. He put on his boxers and binder, and said,

“I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Take your time, there’s no rush.”

After a few minutes, Steve had his clothes on and opened the bathroom door. He silently went over to his bed and just layed down with his face in the pillow. Yeah, it was one of those days.

“Hey,” Bucky called gently. “I was thinking of making a stir fry for dinner. That sound ok to you?” He tended to retreat into caretaking and physical gestures of affection until Steve was feeling verbal again.

Steve merely shrugged, and didn’t say anything. Natasha sat on the edge of the bed and gently held Steve’s shoulder with her hand. When Steve had come out, she had done every bit of research she could in order to help him. She could never truly understand what Steve’s dysphoria was like, but she knew how to comfort Steve nonetheless.

“I know you don’t really like your body,” She said gently. “But we still love you no matter what.”

“Tony won’t when he finds out.” Steve mumbled into his pillow.

“You may be surprised. He…” She tried to phrase it without making Steve feel like another lay. “He’s very open minded. And your personality is already blowing him away. He doesn’t just buy a priceless painting and make sure the person he gives it to doesn’t have to pay taxes for just anyone.”

Bucky sighed. He had to get out of his own head about feeling protective and bizarrely jealous if he was gonna be any help, but there was just so much history there. He had taken care of Steve… no, he corrected himself… they had taken care of each other through a lot. He thought they’d been through the worst, but Stark seemed like the elected representative of all the worst of all the worst up to that point. People that might hurt Steve. People that might expose Steve to danger and judgement. 

People that might love Steve every bit as much as he did, and be just as bad about it sometimes. It was terrifying. Bucky couldn’t help thinking of Tony Stark as one more deadly disease Steve didn’t deserve.

Steve felt tears well up in his eyes. It was stupid, but he thought maybe he wouldn’t tell Tony  _ ever _ if it meant holding onto him a bit longer. There was no one else like him, and he made Steve happy in a way he hadn’t felt in years. Too many good things had been torn out of his life over the years, and he wanted to hold onto Tony as tightly as he could. His breath started to hitch, and he tried to hold it back.

“He’ll be disgusted by me.”

“No he won’t.” Nat said. “I can’t tell you what’s going on in his head, but I’m sure that even if you told him you have two literal left feet, he’d still care about you.”

“But I don’t want him to try and fix me. He offered Bucky an arm, and I don’t want him to think all I want is his money.”

The pots crashed a little loud as Bucky hauled out the wok. He huffed a sigh.

“It’s not the same thing, man. Don’t think like that. There’s nothing about you missing.”

“How about a penis? Or a flat chest? I’d say that’s missing.”

Bucky thumped the wok down on the stove and set it to heat. He went over and sat down by Natasha.

“There’s nothing missing. Not on either of us. Not like what’s missing in him, if he doesn’t get you.”

Steve didn’t speak, just buried his face deeper into his pillow.

Bucky huffed a deep sigh and screwed his eyes shut. “Steve, listen. Ok? You hear me? You’re thinking about this wrong. You’re thinking about this guy like he’s another of those losers you seem bent on punishing yourself with. I don’t… I mean I don’t like the guy. At all. But he’s not like that.”

“He’s not.” Natasha agreed. “I’ve seen him be in love before, or actually be romantically attracted to someone, and he gives it his all every time. He’s just as afraid of you hating him as you are of him hating you. You’ve both been hurt so many times and he might not understand it fully, but he’ll do everything he can to be supportive, even on days like this.”

More silence, but Steve actually started to cry. He clutched the pillow he was holding to hopefully mute his sobs. It was all just too much. He didn’t want to mess up, and he didn’t want to lose Tony. He couldn’t handle it. He felt Natasha lay on top of him in a sort of pseudo-hug as he cried, which gave him a lot of comfort.

Bucky patted Steve on the hip and retreated to the kitchen to chop vegetables until the crying fit passed. Too many cooks or whatever. He got out his custom cutting board that he’d fitted with a bracket to help him hold things while he cut them, and started chopping like a pro.

Once Steve had somewhat called down, he wiped his eyes on his arm and took some calming breaths. He hated when he got like this, absolutely loathed it, but he was lucky he had Bucky and Natasha there to help him through it.

“Do you really think he won’t care?” Steve asked.

“98% certain.” Natasha answered.

“It’s better than nothing.”

***

Tony sat at his desk, looking over the third round of non-disclosure forms legal had sent back to him after he’d asked them to make them sound less entitled. He never worried about that kind of thing, just business, but the idea of Steve’s friend getting legal boilerplate that sounded too entitled had been eating at him. He was slowly building up his store of logical reassurances that he and Steve had good chemistry, that Steve was obviously a kind and patient person, and the sky wasn’t going to fall on him the moment he turned around. But Steve’s friends seemed to be a big part of his life. And to have strong opinions.

Natasha walked into the office with yet more paperwork for the new modifications on the missiles. After what Steve had endured the day before, she tried not to talk about him with Tony in order to not flip out at him about being kind. She sat the paperwork on his desk and said,

“Miss Potts called. She was wondering if you’d like to have lunch tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Sounds good. Set it up for whenever I’m not already booked with something else.”

Natasha was about to walk out, but stopped herself. She couldn’t help it, she had to say  _ something _ .

“Have you thought about where you’ll take Steve on your next date?”

Tony stopped scanning but didn’t put down his pen or look up. “You’re already on workshop probation, Ms. Barnes. If I have to put you on personal office probation, our working situation is going to get a lot more difficult, seeing as you’re my assistant.”

“I’m just genuinely curious.”

“Good. Enjoy that.” He tried not to snarl, but he was still annoyed by her entitled attitude.

She sighed. “I’m at least going to say this: Steve has been through a lot. I talked to you about that before because me and Bucky have been there for almost all of it. I just want you to treat him the best you can, because you both deserve some happiness for once.”

He put down his pen and looked up. “You done? Good.” He stood up and went to the shelf to pour himself a drink. “You didn’t talk to me about it, and you’re not talking to me about it now, you’re talking at me like you have the first idea or any right, and I don’t appreciate it. This is not highschool, Ms. Barnes, and I am not your gay bestie. Now get the fuck out of my office and take a personal day for yourself tomorrow. I really don’t have the energy for your help.”

She took a deep breath, determined not to do anything else, and walked out.

He pounded back a finger of scotch and tried to get his heart rate down, rambling in his own head with cutting and bitter sarcasm. He was a genius, after all. One of the richest men in the world. A pansexual man who hadn’t had a real private life since he was fourteen years old. Why wouldn’t every person in his life who had no fucking idea what any of that was like feel like he ought to take their advice and get mad at him if he didn’t? Just who the hell did he think he was, after all, and why did he never think to ask despite it being the question he got most often from interviewers, board members, casual acquaintances, and his own dad, god rest him.

He poured himself another to try and shut himself up and fill the sense of isolation.

Steve could feel that there was something wrong. He was suddenly feeling angry and somewhat betrayed, but he wasn’t even doing anything. He was just in his bed sketching, and Bucky was finishing up the car downstairs. He took some deep breaths, and once he got himself under control, he figured out that there was something wrong with Tony. He got his phone out of his pocket and called Tony’s cell phone.

Tony pulled his phone out and gasped with relief he didn’t entirely understand. He thumbed it on.

“Steve! Hey!”

“Hey… are you doing okay?”

“Yeah I’m… “ He swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, I’m not, at all. I’m sorry. Was I sending psychic trash your way? Jeez I’m sorry. How are you?”

“A bit worried about you since one minute I’m sketching, the next I feel like throwing something delicate against a wall.”

“Yeah, sorry I was just,” He tried to think of some mundane stupid bullshit but the truth just came rushing up like Steve’s voice was a celebrity it couldn’t wait to meet. “-just feeling incredibly alone and like I’m gonna mess everything up and everyone has told me so. And I guess when I feel like that I think of you. Because I really really want to see you again but don’t wanna scare you off.”

“What… why do you think you’ll mess it up? If anything, I think I’ll mess it up just by being myself.”

“Well, hey, wanna get something to eat, try to contain the mess as long as we’re both headed that direction? We can get ribs. That’s good and messy. Get that out of the way.” He hoped he sounded cute.

Steve chuckled. “I figured since you picked the first place, I’d pick the second place. And I’d pay.”

Tony swallowed but nodded, summoning up all his courage. “Yeah. Yeah ok. I can do that. Because I respect you as a provider. And I will not let my crippling germphobia make me a snob about college dives.”

“Well it wouldn’t be a college dive. There’s a place in Little Italy that makes great authentic Italian, and I think you’d enjoy it. Even the pizza is authentic.”

Tony groaned softly. Italian sounded perfect.

“That sounds amazing actually. What are you? How are you so perfect?”

Steve chuckled. “I’m just a guy from Brooklyn who knows the best spots.”

Tony made a vaguely lewd purring sound. “Well I will keep that in mind.”

Steve felt a blush rush to his cheeks. Fuck, it had been too long since he’s had a come-on like that. How did you respond to that again? He wasn’t good at this to begin with, as he’d been told many times.

“To be fair, I hear you’re better at it than I am.” He cringed at what he said.

“I can neither confirm or deny, but I welcome the committee’s investigation and maintain that I have nothing to hide.” He rattled off. It was a bit of a pat line, but he didn’t want to get too far off track. “So when can we go. Can it be tonight? Please say it can be tonight. I miss you. Like to an embarrassing degree. And now I can’t stop talking.” He put his hand over his mouth.

“I have nothing going on tonight. You can pick me up in a fancy car at 7… specifically the car Bucky just finished.”

Tony grinned. “I swear, you’re like an angel. A christmas angel.” He looked out the high widow of his office towards Brooklyn. “My star in the east.” He winced, looking at his glass. How drunk was he?

Okay, this blush was not lust related. It was feeling so happy but flattered at the same time that he didn’t know what to say. He was just dumbfounded and pinched himself in the thigh to say  _ something _ .

“Are you sure you’re not deep usually? Because you seem to be proving yourself wrong when I’m around.”

“Nah, it’s a cheap illusion. I find if I keep talking long enough, statistically something is gonna have to make sense.”

“Well so far, it’s working.”

Tony stifled an adolescent whoop. “Sweet. Then. I am gonna quit while I’m ahead. Not quit. I just mean… take a…” He glanced at the clock on his computer. “A three hour sabbatical. And hopefully a shower. And I will see you at seven.”

“If you want to actually pick me up in the car, you’ll need to send someone to get it, or pick it up yourself. And I promise I won’t look at it until you’re in the car itself.”

Tony grinned. “I figured I’d come over. You can climb out the upstairs window and meet me in the driveway. We can sneak it out of your roommate-dad’s garage and take it for a joyride.”

Steve laughed hard, and had to put his phone down for a second. “Then we’ll have to be home at 1 so he isn’t awake before we get back.”

Tony was so excited it was hard to breathe properly. He felt like a kid. A very thrilled, very in love, very embarrassingly horny kid.

“We’ll, um… yeah. We’ll have to.” Deep, Stark. Way to go.

“I’ll see you at 7.”

“Yes.”

“Bye.”

“Yeah. Bye.”

Even with as wound-up as he felt, Tony found he was far calmer than he’d been just ten minutes before. With his head clearer and his spirits up, it felt a lot easier to be the bigger man, or at least a bigger man than he’d been, and he started composing a short apology to Natasha in his head as he got out of his suit. 

“I’m sorry I was so grumpy.” He said as he unfastened his shirt and tie, testing the words. “I hired you precisely because we have a similar distaste for careful and disingenuous behavior, and I have to own that I’m the one not really acting like himself.” 

He hung his suit in the to-be-cleaned closet and headed for his office’s ensuite bathroom in his trunks, still dictating to himself. “I shouldn’t have expected you to understand how threatened and isolated I’ve felt in the past weeks when I don’t understand it myself. I regret my outburst, and hope you enjoy a well-earned paid personal day.”

Tony had continued his father’s “tradition” of coming in late on office days and working until it was time to head out to evening meetings and events. So it made sense for him to have a full shower in his private bathroom, and a small collection of exercise and eveningwear on site. He made a mental note, as he checked his teeth in the mirror, that it was also surprisingly handy for when he didn’t want to try to stroll down to the executive parking garage with a prodigious boner performing quality control on his fly. He regarded his own blithely hedonistic body, as usual, with a frank annoyance.

“So I guess we gotta talk about this,” He muttered to himself. “or I expect there’s gonna be no living with you for the next couple hours.”

He gave the head an experimental squeeze to see if it could be bargained with. With any luck, he told himself, it was just an artifact of a pleasant adrenaline rush and a hefty dose of emotional relief. But he was stiff as a stick-shift, and the perfunctory contact sent a warm wave of eagerness and longing through him from the pit of his throat to the soles of his feet. He sighed.

“Yeah, ok. Memo received.”

He turned on the shower and set the digital control to just above body temperature. He wanted the percussion and slide of the water touching him, but he didn’t need any steam. He was already feeling sweaty and feverish. The vivid, tactile, three-dimensional-imagination function of his hyperactive engineer’s brain began to spin him some possibilities and permutations before he even stepped under the fall of water. For as ever-ready and flexible as Tony’s playboy reputation was, his fantasy life was surprisingly high-maintenance. With ideas and concepts, especially physical ones, his imagination was always detailed and exacting, and refused to let any possibility proceed carelessly.

The first thing he thought of was how Steve’s hand would look against the black marble of the shower wall, palm pressed and fine long fingers spread. He went with that image, assembling it backwards, to figure out why and how it might get there. Inviting Steve up to see his office, suggesting that they take a shower, undressing him slowly. He thought that he might put his hands on Steve’s shoulders as they both faced the wall, run down his arms like water and hook his fingers around his fine wrists, guide his hands up to spread themselves against the wall as he kissed and nibbled the backs of his shoulders.

His lust pulsed impatiently as his brain lingered lovingly over how Steve’s deep, sensual moans would echo in the hard space. Slowly, he savored the fantasy of sucking water off Steve’s wiry shoulders and running his hands down his sides. He wondered at some length whether Steve would be the sort to leave his hands where Tony had put them and let his body be enjoyed, or to reach back the moment Tony’s hands weren’t on his to find Tony’s hips and draw him close. Tony smiled and groaned softly as his own mind unfolded the slow seduction and foreplay with the promise of a gradual build before he was finally able to relieve himself. 

But he’d barely gotten his brain around what it would feel like if his erection grazed against Steve’s sweet firm ass before he felt a burst of libidinal urgency almost like a punch to the bladder. All his careful imaginings dissipated. The head of his cock ached and tingled so hard that he had to rub himself hard and fast in response, as automatically as he might suck a finger he’d slammed in a door. He just had to come. He had to get it out. 

As he tipped past the blinding edge of orgasm and spent his load onto the shower floor, he sagged back against the wall, cursing and gasping in astonishment like he’d just barely escaped a car accident. His whole skin felt bright and prickly, melting swiftly into a pleasant fuzzy hum as he slid dizzily down the wall. He rubbed a hand through his hair and over his face, and gave a giddy giggle. 

“Damn,” He murmured as the light shock faded. “I guess it’s good that we got that out of the way. Someone could have gotten hurt.”

Without getting up he reached to the ledge and got down the conditioner. He’d lost track of his plan not to get his hair wet, and figured he might as well condition as long as he wasn’t getting up for a couple minutes. He rubbed the smooth sandalwood-and-cinnamon cream through his hair, enjoying the still-simmering responsiveness of all his tactile nerve endings, and rested his head back to let it penetrate.

While he waited for the heady blush of orgasm to calm, his brain grazed lazily over all the possible permutations of the word, penetrate, and before he even opened his eyes again he was still feeling an insistent tickle from the front of his pelvis. He regarded his revived erection with skepticism.

“Are you serious? I know we have hours but I was thinking we might get some work done and be on time.” As before he gave it an experimental squeeze and found it hard as marble and sensitive as a whisker. He groaned, “Oh come on.”

But he was already imagining Steve standing over him, naked and sacred and glistening with wet; that shy, sly, forgiving smile on his full lips. Tony shifted on the slippery floor to get his knees under himself, to picture himself kneeling up and taking Steve’s cock in his mouth, to suck him off as water ran down both their bodies, but he was still slower than his own imagination, and shifted to the idea of Steve putting a hand on his cheek and kneeling down instead, hovering his ass over Tony’s cock and kissing him with those soft rosebud lips.

He sighed into the fantasy, wondering vividly how long it would take after they began kissing, if Tony didn’t press, for Steve to open his mouth and let them taste each other’s tongues. He solved for all probabilities; from kissing chastely, horny and naked and yet perfectly contented, for hours; to Steve having a controlling, lustful mouth that worked to pry him open before he was even ready. But as before, the moment he began to render the idea of Steve’s soft, firm skin touching the tip of his straining erection, the carefully constructed illusion flew apart and he began jerking himself like he might spontaneously combust if he didn’t get his load out. The peak he hit was even higher and harder than the first one, and he doubled over so hard as he came that he hit himself in the forehead. 

He laughed at himself again as he cooled down, leaning into the stream of water and swallowing several long gulps before thoroughly rinsing his hair and face. He picked himself up off the floor and addressed his own junk.

“You know, as much fun as this is, I’m still an irascible engineer, and if you make me think you’re going to be an embarrassing nuisance to my incredibly hot but very shy boyfriend, I will have no qualms treating you like a problem that can be solved with duct tape.”

His refracting member drooped, half hard, as if suitably chastened.

Tony soaped himself up and rinsed off a few times, paying special attention to getting all the oily stress-sweat out of his armpits. The word kept ricocheting insistently around his head.

_ Boyfriend. _

He sighed and shook his head at himself. Way to jump the gun there, Stark. No pressure. He chuckled at himself and sighed more wistfully. It was ok. Just a fantasy. 

_ Boyfriend. _

He smirked as his brain assembled the perfect tabloid photo of the two of them walking a red carpet together in tuxes, Tony’s hand up, palm towards the paparazzi in both greeting and warning, Steve with an arm around Tony’s waist, his smile amused and a little embarrassed but also confident. Maybe even just a little proud and cocky. That kind of smile that said “This is my man, and I know he would die for me, and you jealous bitches can all die mad about it.”

Without further preamble, Tony felt himself longing to go out someplace with Steve just to be able to come home with him. To watch him covetously for a whole evening, talking and laughing, maybe getting stuck in traffic, hands on each others’ thighs, maybe singing songs badly with the radio, just for the moment of getting him inside the dark front foyer of his home. 

He wondered, vividly, if Steve were the kind of guy that might like having his clothes ripped off after an evening of decorous reserve. He wondered if Steve were the kind of guy that might like to be pushed back against the wall and be methodically tongue-worshipped down the front of his body. He wondered whether Steve had sensitive nipples, and he groaned to himself hungrily. He loved guys with deep earnest voices and sensitive nipples, loved the thought of making Steve moan and writhe just by licking and sucking his chest as he got his pants open.

“Oh fuck, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Tony grumbled as he felt that senseless urgent tightening at the base of his torso again, but he didn’t even bother to fight it. He took his cock in hand as he let the shower water sluice down his whole body in a final rinse.

He pulled at himself and imagined taking Steve’s cock into his mouth and burying him all the way back to his throat. He was able to stay with the notion of touch a lot longer, focusing instead on the acoustics of the space and how Steve would moan up the stairway, how he’d churn his slender fingers through Tony’s thick hair, how he’d writh and beg or grasp and thrust.

As Tony started to come he tilted his head back and swallowed long gulps of water, blissfully possessed by the thought of Steve coming inside him and dumping hot surges of brackish jizz down his throat. He turned off the water and sank against the wall again as his imagination carried Steve up the stairs to their bedroom for round two and faded to black with an arbitrary kind of chastity. 

Tony shook his damp hair, out of breath. To his even greater relief, his cock finally seemed contented, and reverted to its usual chill, docile, spongey self. While he towelled off he wondered if that little performance was just a fluke of an exciting new prospect, or another potentially harrowing Soulmate thing. He’d heard about people claiming they’d had overwhelming urges to consummate their bond the moment they first felt it, but he wasn’t exactly a stranger to hedonistic impulses.

But three in a row. In the middle of the afternoon. Stone sober and playing solo. Not just effortless but insistent, that was out of the ordinary. His previous one-hour record had been four, and that had been when he was eighteen, high as a kite, and wedged between a pair of fraternal twins. 

His body remained impishly placid as he dressed, stately as a dormant volcano. His mind busily shuffled through all the questions he had about Steve’s body that still craved testable tactile answers. And as he sat down to dictate his apology to Natasha, he tried not to wonder what Steve had felt while all that was going on.

Steve had tried so hard not to give in to the urges he was feeling. But when he found himself with a wet spot in his pants, hard as he could be, he couldn’t help himself. He put the sock on the door, locked it, and got out his dildo and lube from the night stand. It was a decent size and had a suction cup base, and he only used that feature if he was feeling desperate.

This was one of those times.

But for some reason, he didn’t feel like going the usual route of using it in his ass. He didn’t know why, but actually using it in the place he usually didn’t felt… right… when thinking about Tony. So on the wall next to his bed, he placed the suction cup at the right height and got on all fours. He always cleaned the dildo after he used it, so he wasn’t worried about it being dirty.

Very hesitantly, he backed up and let the dildo enter him. He gasped from the intrusion but the burn of the stretch felt so fucking good. He thought of Tony bending him over his drafting desk, entering him slowly but somehow with urgency. Like he was teasing Steve with the slow slide of his cock. Would he be the type to draw it out? God he hoped so.

Steve started to slide back and forth on the dildo as he imagined Tony starting off slow. He pictured Tony whispering dirty things in his ear as he thrust in and out, somehow hitting the right spots without even trying. As he imagined Tony doing in the fantasy, Steve pulled up his binder under his shirt and played with his right breast. He hoped Tony would be rough, that he would pinch and twist without mercy.

Almost as quickly as it started, Steve could feel himself getting close to his climax. He just needed to come so badly it might kill him. He reached back, pulled the suction cup off the wall, and started to fuck himself in earnest with the dildo. He imagined Tony grabbing him by his hair as he fucked hard and fast. Fuck, how he wanted that so badly right then.

Steve’s orgasm hit him like a ton of bricks. He swore he could feel a bit splash onto his hand, which had never happened before. For a while he laid on his bed to catch his breath, in a state between satiated lust and exhaustion. Somehow his asthma wasn’t an issue this time, and yet he was still horny. It wasn’t that unusual as his parts could go more than once… but the intensity was what shocked him.

He shifted onto his back, spread his legs, and the scene in his head changed to soft and romantic. Possibly after a romantic dinner on Valentine’s Day, his bed only lit by candlelight. He imagined Tony on top of him, a gentle smile on his face as he looked down at Steve. His fantasy had Tony kiss down his front from his chest, to his stomach, and finally in between his legs.

In real life, Steve used three fingers and started to stroke his cock. His vision of Tony started to teasingly lick him and fuck, just picturing Tony between his legs was intense. No one had ever done that for him before, even when he asked. Steve could practically see Tony start to bob his head as he sucked his cock. There wouldn’t be much movement, but it would still be amazing to watch, let alone feel.

Then imaginary Tony slid his fingers inside of him, and started stroking his G-spot while he sucked. Steve moved his fingers the same way and almost instantly he came with a gasp. His hands became drenched in fluid and his legs shook. How was this one more intense than the first? Stroking himself was usually the quick way to let off some steam, not Earth-shatteringly amazing.

And even then, he was still horny.

However, his dirty fantasy didn’t move to another scene. Instead, it had Tony crawl over him, kiss him, and tease the head of his cock against Steve’s vagina. Steve had the dildo in his hand again, and slowly slid it in. He was a bit tender from the rough fucking he had done to himself earlier, and this scene was just meant to be… slow and sensual.

As Tony did in his fantasy, Steve slid the dildo slowly in and out of himself. With every thrust, Steve moaned softly. It was strange, but he could almost feel Tony’s body heat over him. Imaginary Tony kissed him gently, almost carefully, and sped up just a fraction. Steve wanted to actually enjoy this, and yet he still felt on the brink, like he was edging by going slow. It was almost too much, but he kept going.

Out of nowhere, he hit his peak and Steve let out a high pitch keen as he came. He had to take the dildo out because he was starting to ache, and his inner walls were almost closing from the intensity of his orgasm (or at least it felt like that). Still, no asthma attack despite the fact that he was gasping for air. He’d rarely had an orgasm like that from masturbating, and even more rarely had an orgasm at all from sex. He had no idea if this was a Soulmate thing, but he hoped this wouldn’t make everything awkward for their date. There was no doubt that Tony felt that too.

***

Tony walked from the nearest subway stop since the weather was nice and he clearly needed a little exercise. He’d picked out some nice jeans, a clean t-shirt, and a blazer, with only two panicked calls to Pepper for reassurance. The big garage doors were closed and the office was dark, so he went up the backstairs to knock on the residence door.

Steve jumped when he heard the knock on the door. He tried to look a little better than he did on the first date with non-ripped black jeans, a white button up, and a sweater over that since it was a bit cold. He also wore his contacts, and double checked that he had his drops in his pocket. With a steadying breath, he walked over to the door, and opened it with a smile.

“Hey.”

“Hey! Wow, you look great,” He offered weakly, not wanting to overdo it. “Is Mr. Barnes at home to release the car?”

“I have a key, Bucky’s out with Natasha and Sam.” Steve went through the doorway, shut, and locked the door to the apartment. “Follow me.”

Tony grinned. “Anywhere.”

No, Steve did  _ not _ blush at that… or rather he hoped Tony wouldn’t notice since he was behind Steve. They made their way down the stairs and Steve unlocked one of the garage doors. He tried to push it up, but of course, his strength made him look like an idiot in front of his date.

“As long as you’re paying for dinner, do you mind if I impress you with some feats of strength?” Tony crouched down beside him and hauled the door up.

“Jesus, you sound like Clint.” Steve muttered as they went inside.

Steve switched the lights on, and there was a tarp over the only car in the garage.

“You should do the honors.” Steve said with a smile.

Tony bit his lip and tried not to seem too giddy. He hauled the tarp back, stepped away, and sighed in contentment. It was perfect. The front of the car looked like an optical illusion since it was so close to a lamborghini, the fade almost perfect as it went back to the starry sky. The stars had a bit of a galaxy feel to it even more detailed than Steve’s drawing, and the shooting star almost seemed like a rocket in space. 

Tony glanced at Steve, who was watching him expectantly, and just nodded, speechless. As he folded up the tarp, he cleared his throat and wiped away a tear. He gathered up all the words he could.

“I love it.”

“So do I.”

Tony’s stomach took that moment to squeal loudly, and his face broke into a grin.

“Do you wanna drive or shall I?”

“You did promise to pick me up in this car.”

“I did,” He held out a hand for the keys. “so I will.”

Steve handed the keys over, almost bursting with excitement. He walked back over to the light switch and shut it off. He wanted to get in that car right now just to see Tony as happy as he was, but he still had to lock up the garage.

Tony pulled the car out of the bay, hopped out to close the bay door and open the passenger door for Steve. “Monsieur. Ah, shit, we’re doing Italian, my bad. Signore.”

Okay, Steve did blush this time, but he didn’t mind. He got in after he locked the bay door, and was immediately in love with the seat. It felt amazing, and the interior looked incredibly sophisticated. It was almost something out of a James Bond movie, which was a little intimidating.

Tony slid in and buckled up. He loved the feel of it, like he was strapping on a suit of technologically advanced armor to go for a quick fly around the neighborhood. The feel of the wheel in his hands, the almost imperceptible hum of the electromotor transmission, and the chance to show it off pulled the corners of his mouth irresistibly back.

“You ready?”

Steve buckled in. “If you are.”

“Well then.”

Tony checked up and down the length of the block, then hit the accelerator. They peeled out of the garage parking lot so fast that he could feel the blood rushing backwards up his legs. He decelerated a little more gradually at the end of the block and stopped at the stop sign.

“So tell me where we’re going.”

Steve had to take a few deep breaths from the shock of the speed. Now he understood why certain rich assholes liked luxury muscle cars. The powerful engine was a dream, and even more amazing because Tony helped design it.

“On the edge of Chinatown and Little Italy. The intersection full of Italian Restaurants where the guys try to out-shout each other to get customers.”

Tony nodded and pulled out a little less abruptly. “Immediatamente.”

“How many languages do you even know?”

Tony shrugged. “Not as many as I probably should, and not as much of any of them to count as really knowing them. But there’s a certain utility in knowing German and Italian and Japanese if you’re an engineer. Pepper keeps telling me I should work on my Mandarin with her, but… ugh. It’s a lot.”

“I took two years of French, that’s it. But Bucky and Nat know Russian.”

Tony nodded. “Interesting.”

By some miracle, there was actually a parking spot in front of the restaurant. Tony parked on it like it was nothing and they both got out of the car. There were a few families at the long tables that lined the walls, almost like pews at a church, but Steve had called ahead for a reservation, so there was one table open for them. And he may have asked to have one of those tacky wine bottle candles lit when they arrived. The hostess lead them to the table, and handed them their menus.

“Steve, are you having wine or your usual Pepsi?” She asked.

“We’ll look at the wine menu tonight.”

“I’ll give you two a few minutes.” And she left to go to the kitchen at the back.

“If I order the veal will you expect me to put out later?” Tony asked, scanning the offerings.

“Um…” Steve made sure to hide his face behind his menu for a second to compose himself. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

Tony sighed. “Oh well. Guess I’ll just have the bolognese then.” He smiled warmly at Steve.

Steve couldn’t help but smile back, and the tension visibly left him.

They went through the motions of ordering and eating, and Tony mostly didn’t notice any of it. It helped, of course, that the food was exquisite and the atmosphere was richly inviting, and so they could be left to mind themselves. He was so taken with Steve that the time just flew by. They had just fallen into a comfortable silence after Tony had noticed a spot of sauce on Steve’s cheek and had helped wipe it off with a napkin. He cleared his throat as Steve refilled their wine glasses.

“I was kind of an ogre to your sister today. I only bring it up in case she complains to you. I’ve already got an apology all set to send her tomorrow morning.”

Steve was confused for a second, but then it clicked why Natasha went home early. And why she asked to go get drunk for once.

“She didn’t. She usually keeps things like that to herself.”

Tony laughed with a rueful edge. “Not where you’re concerned, she doesn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

Tony sighed. “I mean I snapped at her because she kept trying to give me her opinion about how I should conduct myself around you.”

Steve he groaned with a red face that was buried in his hands.

“I’m so sorry.” He said and peeked over his hands. “She’s really overprotective.”

Tony nodded. “Honestly, it’s ok. You obviously mean a lot to a lot of people. That’s a good thing. Don’t take it for granted.”

“Yeah, it’s just… Nat had things happen to her, and it makes her the willing to kill type of protective for the people she loves.”

Tony swallowed a mouthful of wine a little too hard. “Yeah, she made a few disclosures when I hired her. Didn’t phrase it quite like that.” He caught himself checking the corners of the restaurant only semi-jokingly. 

“Well, with the things she’s had to get away from, you can’t really blame her.”

“I know I don’t know her as well as you do, but I get the feeling she’d be insulted if she heard you say that. She hates it when I don’t hold her accountable. But yeah, it’s not really her fault. I’ve been a big mess lately. I’m not used to it, so obviously she wouldn’t be.”

“I think she was more worried about me being a mess than you. The type of drinking she’s probably doing right now is ‘keep me from breaking in somewhere and messing up the security to blow off steam’.”

Tony stared at Steve for a second, realized he wasn’t kidding, and took out his phone. “You know what, I’m just gonna send this now. Pardon me.” He changed a couple words and sent his apology to Nat.

“Don’t worry, she wouldn’t do anything to you. As far as she’s concerned, you’re an equal because of the things you create. She just puts up with the hierarchy of the workplace because she has to. She’d probably hack into the security of a pawn shop or something, but goes to a shooting range if she’s really pissed off.”

Tony had never been so glad to see a dessert menu in his entire life. He glanced at Steve.

“So, I have a really important question to ask you.”

“What?”

“It’s a pretty big one.”

“Just ask.”

“What are your feelings on tiramisu?”

“I like it. It’s not my favorite, but I’ll still have it on occasion.”

Tony nodded. “Good enough.”

Steve had started to order the chocolate cake, but Tony stopped him and simply asked for a slice of tiramisu… on one plate. Were they even on that level yet? He wasn’t exactly sure. But when the tiramisu arrived, Tony looked at him expectantly.

“It’s your Italian place. You have to tell me how the tiramisu is. It’s a thing. Call it a trust-fall for rich assholes.”

Steve chuckled, picked up his fork, and took a bite. As usual, it was great.

“I think it’s worthy of rich assholes and broke college students alike.”

Tony smirked, and picked up his fork. “Then what are we waiting for? Sounds like the UN of desserts.”

“More like the… you know what, you have better comebacks than I do, so we’ll stick with yours.”

The drive back to Brooklyn was quiet. Steve was just enjoying being in Tony’s company, and he let Tony rattle on about his latest projects. He kept on a smile, but he also knew he’d have to tell the truth when they got to the garage. Steve made sure to be honest and up front when it came to his gender identity, that way no one would be disappointed if things got physical (most were anyway, but that wasn’t the point). When they got there, Tony offered to walk Steve up, and of course he accepted the offer.

 

Tony skipped up the steps ahead of Steve to his door, not too gallant, not too breezy. Just right. He wasn’t used to end-of-date nerves. This felt like opening night at the Met, biggest stage ever. He was crazy about this guy in a way he hadn’t felt since… ever.

Steve hesitantly followed Tony up to his door. He didn’t want to push Tony away, yet he couldn’t keep pretending he was a cis male. Tony probably expected a penis and prostate, but Steve didn’t have that. When he got to the door, he timidly smiled at Tony.

“Thanks for dinner.” He said.

Tony leaned back against the doorframe, hands in his pockets. He wished he could stop smiling like a loon but no luck there.

“Hey, it was my pleasure. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is in a city this size to find someone I can talk art with.”

Steve chuckled. “The fact that we’re in New York City means there’s at least half the population who can talk art.”

“Well yeah, but not with me. I’m the fucking worst.” He grinned. He had no chill. Where had his chill gone?

Steve actually laughed at that. Tony didn’t give himself enough credit. He had a brilliant mind that could crack a website code in three seconds, and people only thought he made weapons. But Steve could see the brilliant man underneath.

“You’d probably win a Nobel Prize with some of the ideas you’ve told me about. All I’d win is a crappy hipster art show.”

Tony scoffed. He shouldn’t have scoffed. It made him sound like an elitist.

“You’d be surprised how similar they are, really. Bunch of popularity contest nonsense and patronage.”

He pretended to cough and looked at his shoes. He wasn’t used to there being any stakes. Steve was so singular. Anything else he’d ever wanted, there was always a fall-back, a fck-off. Every pore in his body was insisting that there was only one Steve, patient and pensive and utterly ingenious at seeing. If he messed this up…

He stamped it down, springing back into action. Always a good alternative when thinking got unhelpful.

“So, um,” He rocked forward onto the balls of his feet. “So yeah I - I mean you’re so good at letting me go on and on about myself and my bullshit I feel like I have no idea if you’re just humoring me but, hey, we’ve made it this far, I feel like that’s worth celebrating.” He leaned forward just a little, just a suggestion, and watched for a reaction.

Immediately the panic started to set in. It was like Steve’s body was on fire with want, but his mind was panicking. He had to say something,  _ anything _ , he needed to get it out. Steve closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and said,

“Before we go any further… there’s something I need to tell you.”

His shoulders jigged up practically on their own. “Oh, yeah, sure. What? You’re a reporter aren’t you-?”

“No! Nothing like that-.”

“See, I knew you were too good a listener-.”

“Tony! I’m not a reporter.”

Everything was already going belly up. Fuck, he should have just said it. Clearly Tony was panicking too much to let the slight telepathy come through.

Tony reigned himself back so hard he felt like he might choke on his tongue.

“Yeah, sorry, I interrupted you, that was stupid. Go on, please. Are you married?” His brain battered at him as his mouth kept running for the cliff’s edge, shut up Stark shut up shut up shut up. “Of course, jeez why wouldn’t you be married-?” 

“I’M TRANS!”

There it was, no taking it back now. Usually when he said this, his dates would say good night and never call him again (except for his 3 exes). It would also be extremely awkward if they were a classmate. They’d look at him differently, keep him at an arm’s length, and he would be heartbroken if Tony did the same thing to him. He didn’t want to be treated differently unless he said so.

Tony blinked. For a moment it just didn’t compute. He searched Steve’s face for some indication of whether this was some kind of brush-off, whether Steve meant for him to decide something in that moment. The pause got uncomfortable, and all he could think to say was, 

“Oh. Is - is that a problem?”

“I mean… usually people don’t call back when they find out.”

“So, you might have noticed that I’m not great at not making everything about me all the time and so I’m… I’m kinda spinning off here because nothing that I want to ask you is any of my damn business if you don’t actually want to kiss me as much as I kind of want to kiss you right now, so could we focus on that first?” Smooth. His palms were like ice-skating rinks.

Steve was shocked. His history usually had people say good night and leave and Tony… still wanted to kiss him. How had it taken him six years to find someone like that? 

“I’m also kind of crazy-bad at silences…”

“So am I.”

And without another word, Steve leaned up and kissed Tony on the lips. He didn’t open his mouth, didn’t make it a movie worthy kiss, just kept his lips on Tony’s and he felt his body electrify. Tony’s lips were firm and strong, his goatee lightly scratched Steve’s cheeks but he didn’t care. The sensation of finally kissing his Romantic Soulmate was beyond words.

It was better than he’d imagined. And his imagination had taken up a considerable share of his mental space since their last date. He touched Steve’s shoulder and slid his palm down to the middle of his upper arm, and pulled just a little without a real grip. He wished he’d made up a fancy embossed invitation: The lumbar spine of Mr. Tony Stark requests the pleasure of your touch.

Steve took the hint and wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck. The kiss deepened a bit where lips actually moved, but it wasn’t heated. Tony wrapped his arms around Steve and for a while, they were just in their own little world. A world that was nothing but Tony’s body pressed up against his, and his lips kissing Steve’s. Pure perfection.

It was perhaps the most chaste kiss Tony had ever shared with someone he wanted so much, and yet it was the most right, the most familiar, the most complete feeling, head to toe, of his spin-cycle of a life. Suddenly he was standing at the still center of the universe, with the person that it revolved around. He tilted his head to one side a little, almost like a question, scooping his mouth a little tighter against Steve’s, opening to him without consuming.

Everything felt intensified when the kiss became more heated. Steve hadn’t made out with many people in the past, and some had said he was terrible at it. But from the way Tony was leaning into him, tightening his hold, he may have been doing a good job. Steve slid his fingers into Tony’s hair and lightly gripped his blazer. Everything in him was relishing in just being engulfed by Tony, every cell in his body just screaming in happiness and pleasure.

Tony moaned from deep in his gut, kissing Steve harder and pulling slightly away, caressing their lips together before engaging again, wanting to know every permutation and possibility of sensation that could be had between just their lips. The point of Steve’s chin, the angle of his jaw, the elasticity of his softly swollen lips, he tucked away for study and speculation like a new element with endless possibilities. 

The door opened and light from inside spilled over them like a pan of cold water. Steve startled. Tony scowled. 

“You know, I at least have the courtesy of putting a sock on the door, Steve.” Bucky said with a smirk.

“Buck!” Steve exclaimed, scandalized.

“Hey man,” Tony said wryly without making any move to disentangle himself from Steve. “Close the door, you’re letting out a draft.”

Steve groaned and let go of Tony. Honestly, how did this always happen to him? He gave a quick glare to Bucky, then looked to Tony with an awkward smile.

“I’ll... I’ll text you later.” Steve said awkwardly.

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure thing,” He took a step back down the stairs. “Don’t want to give the kid the wrong idea, do we? Gayness happening in a public New York doorway,” He fanned himself. “won’t somebody think of the children?”

Steve chuckled. “Bucky’s probably slept with more men than even you, he’s too far gone.” He leaned over and kissed Tony on the cheek. “Goodnight, Tony.”

He smiled and surrendered, his scowl softening as he looked at Steve again, memorizing as fast as he could.

“Yeah, it was, wasn’t it?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to follow me on twitter and Instagram. Both are under the user @roryqpotter


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As usual for Tony's life, the media needs to dig their claws into everything, and Steve gets caught in the crossfire.

The sense of floating and flying on the way home was not entirely due to the car’s brilliant micro reactive shock absorption. He took the scenic route home, wanting to enjoy the drive in his brilliantly designed, magnificently decorated baby. Their baby. He let himself enjoy the idea for a goofy second before admonishing himself to not over-do, not get too far ahead, not be a pushy creep. It made him smile, though. A lot. 

It was a surprise to find Pepper sitting in his front room. 

“Hey, Pep,” He smiled, genuinely happy to see her. “I’m glad you’re here. Did you get yourself anything to drink? Eat? You want something? I’m stuffed but I love watching you eat.” 

“That’s not why I’m here, Tony.” She said with a frown. She got her phone out of her purse, tapped a few buttons, and audio started playing of him… and Bruce talking.

_ “It’s Steve, ok? Steve is sick. Very sick. I can feel it in my… in my pores, ok? And I’m freaking out.” _

_ “Okay.” _

_ “And I know you all think I’m an obsessive spoiled nutjob who’s just latched onto something new and shiney but I’m kinda having feelings over here. And everyone’s acting like they know better about that, and they don’t.” _

_ “... I had a Romantic Soulmate.” _

_ “You did?” _

_ “Her name was Betty, we worked together in my old facility. We were engaged for two years before… the accident happened.” _

_ “Wow. Wow man. I’m sorry. You never said. How did you… I mean… did you wanna talk about it?” _

Tony sighed and rolled his eyes. “Dammit.” He thought for a second to weigh the possibilities. “That’s probably not even a leak in the system. Some trucker might have picked up my cell signal while I was in traffic. Jeez I’m an idiot.”

“Actually, Natasha tracked it. Someone tapped your phone.”

“Dammit.”

“The audio is being shared all over Twitter, news outlets are covering it, and there’s clues in there as to who Steve is.”

Tony swallowed a strong urge to jump on his phone again and start making calls. He took a deep breath. If Natasha knew, Steve and his friends were probably already covered in the damage control department. It would be stupid to call.

“Ok. Ok. So, I’m still a little loopy, you’ve clearly been thinking about this for an hour. What should I do?”

“You do what you’ve always done: make a statement, donations, the usual. What I’m more concerned about is Steve being found and tracked by the Paparazzi. They’ll pry into his private life just like they do you, and he isn’t equipped for that.”

Tony’s mouth went dry. “That would be bad. He’s a private guy. In fragile health. He’s an artist, for christ’s sake.” He felt a wave of contradicting urges to tell Pepper, since it was kind of an emergency and he trusted her with his life, and not blurting out Steve’s personal business the first time he opened his mouth. “He’s got a past.”

“What do you mean?”

Tony sighed. “Pep, I don’t know if I should… I mean, I forgot to ask if it was ok with him if I let my friends know.”

“Tony, I need to know what I’m working with here. If there’s something that could blow it up out of proportion and cause even more damage, I need to know.”

“Well it’s…” He raised an eyebrow. “Wait,  _ working with _ ? You’re coming back on the payroll, or is this pro-bono Tony’s-bullshit-wrangling? I just wanna know what I’m working with.”

Pepper sighed. “I don’t want the media to ruin this for you. You’ve been through enough as it is, and you shouldn’t be made to put Steve on display just because he’s your Soulmate. This is me trying to stop things from getting catastrophic and hurting both of you.”

“Ok. Ok, call Natasha. Let her know, she’s got full access. Tell her to pack up her friends and take them to any of the blow-over houses she thinks they might like. I’ll give her a paid day off another time. Get-.”

“Yeah, he won’t do that.” A voice said from behind.

Tony turned as the elevator closed behind Natasha. “Hey Nat. What do you mean he won’t? I thought you were great at browbeating people into doing what you want.”

“Very funny. But Steve is too stubborn to hide from it. If anything, he’ll smash the cameras if they get too nosy.”

Tony scowled. “Then explain to him how this works, how bad that would be. Inform him that he won’t make the internet go away by getting angry. Explain to him about Barbra Streisand if he doesn’t get it.”

“I just came here from telling him exactly that. The best I can do is let him sleep it off and let him make a decision, because right now he’s beyond pissed, and not at the media, but at whoever tapped your phone.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t even talk to me about beyond pissed right now, Natasha. You’ve been riding my ass about how I better not let anything bad happen to your baby brother and I am  _ telling _ you right now that you need to do your part of that job. Right. Now. He does not understand what this is and you know as well as I do that he’s a special case. Now get off your spectacular ass and protect him!”

She just stared at him for a moment, then got a notification on her phone. She took a look at it, and scowled.

“You’ll want to direct that anger at Stane, not me.”

“I’ll handle Stane. You handle Steve.”

“The best way would be locking him out from all access to Jarvis at this point… because my buddy at the CIA just tracked the bug. Someone had  knowledge of Jarvis’ programming and used that connection to your phone to record the call. And knowing how the last few scandals have gone, there’s only one person who could know how to do that.”

“Natasha. I am gonna talk slow and I want you to listen to me very carefully. I am fine. I can handle me. I can handle Jarvis. I can handle Stane. You have exactly one job, right now. You go back to Steve’s place and you either stay there and put out fires or you get him out of it. Do. You. Understand? Indicate that you understand by getting the hell out of my apartment and doing the very sensible thing I am asking of you. You have carte blanche, resource wise. Solve things on his end. Keep him safe.”

She nodded, and got in the elevator again.

Tony very calmly sat down and brought up Jarvis’ interface on the glass-topped coffee table. Ten minutes of poking and fidgeting at the lighted projection found and locked out the invasive elements, and Tony shut the program as Jarvis apologized profusely for the situation.

Then he flipped the table with a roar.

Pepper jumped back from the couch. “Tony, stop!”

Tony clutched his head and paced. “Shitfuck, Pep, I’m sorry I just… mother _ fucker. _ I’ve been so preoccupied. I haven’t even been thinking like anything else mattered.”

Very hesitantly, she sat back down, but was clearly frightened. “How do you want to handle Stane?”

Tony took a deep breath and sat down next to her. “Right now, I’ll file a complaint. Quietly. Hitting back too publicly will just look like an admission of guilt. But I’m not letting this go. This is the mistake that’s gonna end him. I am sick of his shit. I’m used to it, and I shouldn’t have to be, and Steve shouldn’t have to get used to it just to be with me. I’m gonna force him out of the company first. He’s done.”

She nodded and sat in silence for a bit.

“I may need your superpowers on this one, Pep. You’ve got class and access. You talk to people that only tolerate working class rich assholes like me. They’re gonna want the dirt. I need you to help control the conversation among the New York elite. Can you do that for me?”

“Of course. I’ll do what I can.” She paused, then sighed. “This is probably not the best time, but I did come up with a possible solution to you and Steve being outed like this. Because some people are saying you’re keeping him as a dirty little secret.”

“Well, first-ten-hours-talk is always all over the place, but yeah, I’ll do anything. What’s your idea?”

“Technically it wouldn’t happen until next month… but an appearance at the Mariah Stark Gala.”

Tony nodded slowly. “I like it. Be like taking him to meet my mom in public. Let them sling evil ink at the poor guy who lost his mom but has finally found love,” He sighed. “If Steve is still talking to me by that point.”

Pepper held his hand. “You’ll make it. Besides, you’re too stubborn to let him walk out so quickly.”

Tony nodded, laying back and covering his face with both hands, the adrenaline rush starting to abate and leave him shaky.

“God I hope so, Pep. I just.” He laughed at himself. “I just like him  _ so much. _ ”

She smiled at him. “I know.”

***

“Absolutely not!” Steve said.

Clint rolled his eyes. “Give me one reason besides stubbornness.”

Bucky just sat back in his chair, hand over his mouth.

“I’m not gonna hide like a coward! Nat has no right telling me what to do about this!”

Bucky sat forward and rested his elbow on his knee. “She kinda does.”

“When it comes to  _ Tony _ . I’m not having us just shoved onto an airplane and taken god knows where to hide. I can handle myself.”

Clint threw his hands up. “Again, give me one real reason why not. You don’t trust that Nat knows this situation better than you do? That’s kinda terrible.”

Steve sat on his bed and started taking some deep breaths. He had literally just changed into his pajamas before Nat had sat them all down and discussed the audio. Steve felt flattered at first that Tony was really that worried about him, but when Natasha told them to hide out for a few days, Steve couldn’t help but feel like it was running away from bullies, and he couldn’t let himself do that. Now she was back again saying Steve had to pack up and leave.

Clint sat down next to him, calm and reasonable. “Think about it from Tony’s point of view if you can’t from yours. I mean, the guy messed up. He’s trying to make it right. You’re gonna make him watch as you get outed and crucified just for… what, again? Your pride?”

Bucky sat back. He had plenty to say, but knew better than to try before Steve had had a chance to wind down.

Steve ran his hand through his hair and thought about what Clint said. And earlier, he could feel a bit of how angry and terrified Tony was, but it just went against everything Steve was to hide like this. He sighed.

“It just feels so…  _ wrong _ .” He said quietly.

Clint nodded, but kept plugging away. “Look, I hear you, man, I know you don’t like bullies, but how about fighting smart for a change? I mean, what do you think they want but for Tony or you to have a big colorful meltdown on camera for them? How is that not giving them just what they want?”

Bucky sighed and sat forward. “Don’t make me do it, Steve. I’ll do it, but I’ll hate myself. Just listen to Nat and Clint. They’re right.” When Steve sat without responding he got up and got a glass from the cupboard, resigned. “I can’t have you here. I won’t be able to handle it. For one thing, I’ve got work to do. For another, if they start sending drones at my windows and flashing flashbulbs, jumping out of the bushes around my shop trying to get a glimpse of you,” He threw back a small shot of scotch and swallowed his pride hard. “I’ll have an episode. I know I will.” He sighed again. “You should go with Natasha. I can’t have you here until things die down.”

Steve felt his heart break, but goddammit, he knew Bucky was right. At the same time, he wanted to be there in case Bucky had an episode, which contradicted everything. Steve rubbed his eyes, determined to make them stop watering.

Bucky growled, “Clint can take care of me. Get the hell over to the dresser and pack.”

With a sense of sorrow, Steve did as he was told. He packed a few days’ worth of clothing, went to the bathroom to get his medications and toiletries, and slipped on some clothes. All the while, everything in him was screaming  _ ‘you’re being a coward, your friends need you’ _ .

Natasha handed Bucky a list. “These are all the doctors offices that might have Steve’s medical records. Time to put the ‘intimidating best friend’ costume on again and make people afraid to sell him out.”

Steve followed Natasha out to the car that was waiting outside, and they drove off.

He’d never felt so alone.

***

The place they arrived at was a small house outside of the city, completely unassuming with a porch, semi-fresh paint, and looked livable inside. Nat had made him wear a baseball cap and sunglasses so he wouldn’t get recognized, and still, he felt like he was being horrible by hiding. The place was decorated not at all like a modern engineer lived there. It was like a typical middle-class family had decorated everything. But Steve could also spot the discretely hidden security cameras. From the front door the living room was an open plan with a couch, chairs, and TV, then lead into the dining table and kitchenette, and to the left of the front door was a staircase leading to the second floor.

Natasha showed him upstairs to his temporary room. It was strangely reminiscent of the room he had as a kid with the wooden framed bed and somewhat cramped space, but he didn’t mind. As soon as she left the room, Steve doubled over and let the tears fall. What in the actual fuck was he doing? Why did he need to hide when his friends needed him? He… he just felt so fucking alone and scared and useless.

An engine rumbled in the driveway and he could hear Natasha talking to someone on the porch. He didn’t catch much, but could see that a motorcycle had parked beside the car. Nat said something about “renew my objection” before the screen door slammed and there were footsteps up the stairs.

A tentative knock at the door preceded Tony’s voice. “Steve?”

Steve quickly wiped his eyes and tried to get himself under control. With a few deep breaths he walked over and opened the door.

Tony let out a sigh of relief he’d been holding since Jersey, and pushed his helmet into Natasha’s hands without taking his eyes off Steve. “I know I’ve got no right to say anything, but I am so sorry, and I will fix this.”

“But… you didn’t do anything. You didn’t know there was someone recording that.”

Tony had a big argument he’d been lashing himself with all the way about how he should have known, how he should have thought, blah blah blah. But he let it go and just asked what he actually cared about.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m…” Steve leaned against the doorframe with a frown. “Not okay at all.”

Tony nodded and reached for him tentatively. He wasn’t sure if Steve would let him, and gave him room to move, but he reached to draw him in and hold him, because it was all he could think about.

Steve felt a dam break as he held Tony close. This was what he needed, and it just felt like there was a light in the darkness. He clung to Tony, and the tears silently fell. He just needed Tony there with him, needed his support, and maybe he could get through this. He vaguely heard Natasha go back downstairs while they hugged.

“So I know,” Tony murmured into his hair. “I know it’s too early for me to be spending the night. But I don’t want to leave. If I promise that nothing comes off, can I just… stay?”

Steve chuckled wetly. “You could be stark naked and I wouldn’t care. I just need you here.”

Tony grinned. “Well, I would want you to care a little bit.”

“Just… don’t expect me to be naked.”

Tony nodded and lead Steve to the bed, joking. “I do look pretty good naked. There’s a reason they named it after me.”

Steve chuckled, and got into his bag. Then he blushed when he realized Tony would be seeing him without his binder and packer. Not only that, but he’d be changing in the same room as Tony.

“Could you… um… look away while I…?”

Tony nodded and turned his back, taking the opportunity to shuck out of his riding leathers.

Steve blushed as red as a tomato the entire time he was undressing, but he made sure that he kept his underwear and took the packer out before putting on his pajama bottoms, and took off his binder last. When he was in his T-shirt, and looked down, he hated that he could see the bumps of his breasts through his shirt, but he needed Tony to help him get through this.

“You want me to hit the light?” Tony asked without turning.

“I can do it. I’m in pajamas now.”

Tony went and sat on the edge of the bed, glancing over at Steve. He was the cutest thing he’d ever seen in his life, Tony had always had a thing for grown men in pajamas. He could see the difference without the binder, more in the way Steve stood without it than any massive change in his silhouette. He knew lots of guys with big chests, either from muscle or fat, and even though it did look a little out of place, it was nothing to the way Steve’s usually square and proud posture hung over trying to hide it. It made his heart hurt, but he assumed it would just take time.

Once the light was off, Steve stood awkwardly. The room wasn’t that big, more the size of a large walk in closet, so the bed was a full size against the wall. Steve was small enough to take up only a third of the bed, and Tony could take the rest. Would they be cuddling? Talking? Kissing? The last one made Steve’s heart beat faster, but now wasn’t the time for that.

“Do you have anything comfortable to wear?” Steve asked.

“I’m ok. I fall asleep in my clothes all the time. Usually on top of something mechanical.” Tony kicked off his boots and climbed into the bed against the wall. “You wanna be little spoon?”

“Not really in a spooning mood tonight.” Steve said as he got under the covers. “More in a ‘I need to be held’ mood.”

Without another word Tony scooted up next to him, on top of the covers, and carefully slid a hand over the thick quilts to the place over Steve’s stomach. “Is that ok?”

“It’d be better if you were actually under the covers… unless you’re uncomfortable with that.”

“I’m not, I just… I figured we can talk it out as we go.” Tony pulled the covers away from the wall, scooted over and under, then back to snuggle in closer to Steve. “It’s part of having had a lot of one-night-stands, I guess. You kinda get used to assuming you don’t know anything, and that you just have to tell each other.”

Steve rolled onto his side facing Tony and wrapped his arms around him. “I guess I wouldn’t know anything about that. I’ve only really dated three guys.”

Tony settled Steve into his arms and held him close, pressing little kisses along his hairline. “It’s ok with me that you don’t know about that, as long as it’s ok with you that I do.”

“I told you I don’t care about that. And I meant it. I’ve known people who have casual sex, so it doesn’t bother me. I just… don’t.”

“I believe you. I just… I thought about the way you asked me. I mean people have been asking me to explain myself my whole life, and it never stuck with me until you asked. Suddenly I wanted to know why, actually. And if you don’t want to know anymore, that’s ok. But I think I figured it out.”

Steve backed up a bit to look Tony in the eye. “So… why did you?”

“Well, all the shallow reasons are in there. It’s fun. It’s attention. Two of my favorite things. It’s a really intense way of knowing someone for a really short burst, there’s something kind of great about that. But those are just the reasons that I never really thought about stopping. The two big reasons I never started anything else, well… “

He took a deep breath. It was weird to go from feeling like his conversations were never safe to wanting to say something he’d never said in a matter of hours, but something about being near Steve completely upended his sense of time.

“The first is that I tend to need things to be short and sharp, or else I overthink, and that makes me miserable. The second is that… I’m a world-class mess. I’m hard on people. I’m hard to be around. I learned pretty quick that I can only be fun in certain doses, and then I revert back to being, well, me. And I don’t… I don’t tend to want to inflict that on anyone who’s nice enough to go to bed with me in the first place.”

Steve was silent, just looking into Tony’s eyes. For a long time they just looked at each other, and Steve just couldn’t have Tony talk about himself like that. He was brilliant, funny, smart, and probably so much more. So, he slid the hand that was around Tony’s back up his shoulder, behind his neck, and around to his cheek. Then leaned in and kissed him, but gently.

Tony felt like every place on him that could have goosebumps did. He slid his hand around Steve’s waist and pressed against the small of his back. He wanted to feel the gentle pressure of his slight body, to pick up where they’d left off on his doorstep and just kiss him for a week.

Instead of pressing in, Steve pulled Tony on top of him and made the kiss more heated. He didn’t know why, he just needed Tony. He didn’t know what way, but any way was amazing. He slid his hands up Tony’s back as Tony settled between his legs, and teased his tongue on Tony’s lips.

Tony caught playfully at Steve’s lips and tongue. It was such a strange mix of deeply erotic and sweetly delightful that he couldn’t quite catch his breath. He cupped one hand behind Steve’s neck and gave him a few deviously aggressive kisses before backing off far enough to ask,

“Take my shirt off?”

Steve realized he hadn’t specified exactly what he wanted out of this. And judging by how Tony was looking at him, he wanted more than what Steve intended.

“Um… just so we’re clear, it’s… I’m not ready for… all of that yet.” Steve stuttered.

Tony coasted to a stop easily and leaned on one elbow, brushing Steve’s hair back. “Yeah, that’s fine. I won’t do anything without asking. And if the answer is no, that’s what I want you to tell me.”

“Can we kiss more?”

Tony nodded with an oddly bashful smile. “I would love that.”

He started at Steve’s forehead and kissed his way back down to his lips, settling in for as long as Steve wanted.

***

Steve woke up the next morning feeling content and oddly warm. Without his glasses he couldn’t recognize where he was, but then he remembered what had happened last night. He registered that Tony’s arm was over his waist, and his head was resting on Steve’s chest. It alarmed him for a minute because that meant he was laying on his breast, but he decided it didn’t matter. He started running his hands through Tony’s hair, which was messy from sleep, and smiled.

Tony woke up and thought, for a second, that he was dreaming. He had the cutest guy in the world running fingers through his hair like a warm breeze. A guy whose skin smelled kind of like fresh waffles and had a smile like a sunrise. But then he remembered where he was, and why, and his eyebrows pushed together in concern.

“Good morning.” Tony said.

“Morning. How are you feeling?”

Tony sighed. He didn’t want to start apologizing again. Not that it wasn’t warranted, just that it would be pointless and tedious.

“Everywhere I’m not feeling fantastic I’m feeling worried.” 

Steve’s smile faded. “Honestly, so do I.”

Tony propped himself up on an elbow. “We do have to talk about it,” He gave a regretful smile. “wanna do it right here, or downstairs in the kitchen?”

Steve grabbed his glasses and put them on. “Breakfast first, then horrible conversation. And I’ll cook since you own this place.”

Steve ended up making pancakes from scratch with bacon and eggs. All the while Tony was on his phone, and Steve felt a sense of dread. He really didn’t want to talk about this whole fiasco, but he knew he had to. Especially since Steve was in a polarized group just by being himself. Eventually he sat a plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon in front of Tony at the table, and sat down with his own.

Tony gave a small, sad, disbelieving smile, and knew things weren’t going to be resolved with some sensible and grown-up decision to avoid each other for their own good. The shit storm that might come down on either of them was intense and awful, but Steve was just too worth-it.

“So,” He began. “I’ve been through stuff like this before. And the good news is, it does pass.”

Steve took a bite of his eggs. “And the bad news?”

Tony shrugged. “Basically everything else. The people that are gonna want to get to you have no sense of shame, no sense of ethics, and no compunction about spinning any little thing they find into the most eye-grabbing kind of dramatic trash. There’s no scaring them. There’s no reasoning with them. We just have to outlast them and, if possible, try to bore them. Failing that, we take control of the narrative.”

“Honestly… I’d like to do the third option instead of the first. If the whole… y’know,  _ me _ thing gets out, I’d rather talk about it myself than have some PR person do it for me.”

Steve knew how bad of an opinion some still had about the trans community. You’d think that because Steve was Tony’s Romantic Soulmate that people would stay quiet, but he’d seen celebrities reveal their Soulmates, and people try to shame them for who fate paired them with. And somehow the LGBT community was especially hated despite two in every ten Soulmates being a gay couple. He didn’t want someone who had no idea what it’s like talking about him like they did.

Tony reached over and squeezed Steve’s hand. “I know. And I agree with you. Eventually we’re gonna have to do that anyway, because it’s not going to disappear unless we do, and I’m not going anywhere without you. I know it’s early,” He blushed. “but we’re talking strategic facts here, and I just know that. Maybe stuff won’t work out like we hope, but I’m not gonna leave you to deal with this all by yourself.

“The thing is, the first part of taking control of the narrative is to let the first ravenous wave of it pass us by a little. It’s like trying to talk against the wind. If you’re loud and clear enough you can do it, but when it’s going too fast there’s really nothing you can do. Anything I say right now, anything they learn this news cycle, it’s just gonna feed the fire. This isn’t like standing up to a bully, ok? You have to trust me on that. This is a monster, and if we let it get its claws into you, you’re not gonna be the only one to suffer.”

Steve held Tony’s hand, and sighed. “Bucky ended up having to kick me out to come here. He was worried about the… emotional triggers this could hit.”

Tony nodded, finding a new kernel of respect for Barnes taking root in his gut. “It’s more than that, though.”

“But it wasn’t  _ my _ triggers he was worried about. It’s his.”

“Yeah, I bet. But it’s also more than that. It’s more than you and me and all our friends. It’s about suddenly being gay in the public eye, do you get that? It means however we handle it, it creates a conversation that could help or harm millions of kids. Trust me, I tried to run away from that when I was younger, and it kept coming back to hit me in the face. I’m a shitty role model, but I can’t help being a symbol. One that can either be used to lift people up or beat them down. And you will be too. It’s a lot of responsibility, but there’s power in that.”

“But I shouldn’t have to watch everything I do. I don’t want to be a symbol.”

“You shouldn’t have asthma either. Them’s the breaks. And if you want out, I will help you walk away, but if you want in, this is just how it is.”

Steve didn’t say anything, just looked down at his food, then asked, “Do you want me to walk away?”

Tony stared at his pancakes. “I want you to be safe and happy. That’s all I want. It doesn’t really come with any helpful plan, it’s just the check I gotta work to cash. I think if you walk away you might be better off, but that’s not the same as wanting you to. That’s all I got.”

Steve took a deep breath, and made a decision. He got up from his seat, walked over to Tony, and tilted his chin up to look him in the eye.

“Then promise me you won’t believe them when they say you could do better. I know they’ll try to say that you can ignore the bond and marry some supermodel, and sometimes I have my doubts about myself, but don’t believe any of it, not for a second.”

Tony pulled Steve down into his lap. “If they try to tell me that, I will laugh in their flashbulb faces.”

“Then that’s all we need.” Steve kissed him gently, tasting the residual syrup and pancakes, and pulled away. “And remind me to tell you about the time Natasha and Bucky knocked someone on their ass for trying to ‘save my soul’ at a Pride parade.”

Tony laughed. “I will do that.” He gave Steve a quick kiss on the tip of the nose. “But I gotta go to work, face the first round of stupid. Are you gonna be ok here for a couple days? I can come back tomorrow night and bring you anything you need.”

“I have a few things to keep me occupied for now. Is it okay if I ask my friend Thor to bring me work I missed? He won’t say anything, and he gets this kind of stuff sometimes for being the son of a diplomat.”

Tony nodded. “Yeah, that should be fine. And, honestly, you don’t have to live like a prisoner. Just keep your phone on you and turned on. Don’t answer any numbers unless you get a text from the person first saying they’re gonna call. Stay out of the city, and don’t call any standing structures, just the phones that go through Jarvis. I will keep you up to date on how it’s going. Nat will let you know if anything gets out that raises the defcon level. Right now nobody knows what you look like. If that changes, the rules might shift.”

“Who’s Jarvis?”

“My AI butler. He runs a lot of the company.”

_ “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Rogers.” _

Steve almost fell out of his chair at the phantom voice, but kept his cool.

Tony winced. “And my properties. You can talk to him like a person. And he’s good about personal space if you want him to leave you alone.”

“And… he’s always watching, right? I saw the cameras when I first arrived last night.”

_ “Yes, Sir always has me monitor his different locations in case of burglaries or recording business meetings. Upon request of course. However given the circumstances, I’m afraid I will have to leave the security cameras online for your own protection.” _

Tony smiled. “It’ll be good practice for just assuming you’re being watched by less solicitous forces. But hey, fair is fair. Jarvis?”

_ “Yes Sir?” _

“You’re not to let me or any other meatbag who has access to you spy on Steve. Ever. And I want you to give him access to any of my personal files he wants while he’s here. Anything he thinks he’s ready to know about me, I want you to show him. Full operator protocol, got it?”

_ “Understood. I had already locked out characters such as Mr. Stane from personal access to the properties and workshops after you left the night before.” _

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Who’s Mr. Stane?”

Tony looked down. “Long story. And I gotta go. He’s all over my personal files though. Feel free to read up.”

Steve could tell from that reaction alone that this Stane guy wasn’t exactly a nice person. He’d probably do some Google searches later. But right now, he felt a bit sad and scared that Tony was leaving him alone. He’d have to suck it up though, for both of them.

“Are we on goodbye kiss levels yet?”

_ “Based on my observations of human interaction-” _

“He wasn’t asking you, J.” Tony grinned and blushed. “I think so, yeah.”

Steve smiled back, and planted a soft kiss on Tony’s lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow night then.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to follow me on twitter and Instagram. Both are under the user @roryqpotter


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How everyone copes with the audio being released.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mentions of past sexism and death.

The NYC Stark Industries building had a private executive garage under the building, with an entrance that came out half a block away. But for first-round media blitz, Tony figured it was important to give them something, and Natasha agreed. Especially with Bruce’s voice and personal information attached to the story. It seemed smart to try to shift the focus to some other incident.

Natasha had already contacted the major networks and promised them each a different sort of exclusive access to the story at a later date, in exchange for pulling Banner’s audio off the recording and transcripts as they ran with it. No one else had to be dragged into this mess because of Stane, and Natasha would keep it that way.

With Bruce off the table, at least in the mainstream, Tony went ahead and braved the front door gauntlet. Let the tabloids take their bite.

“Mr. Stark! Does the audio released mean you have a Romantic Soulmate or is this another fling?” One reporter asked.

“The audio released means that my privacy was violated and what ought to be a personal matter is suddenly not. But yeah.” Tony gave a deliberately ambiguous answer since he knew they were going to spin it however they wanted anyway.

“How long have you been seeing this person?” Another asked.

“Longer than the story’s likely to last, let’s put it that way.”

“Are you planning on showing this Steve person at the Mariah Stark Gala?”

“Jeez, man. Operative word there being ‘person’. Come on. No, I’m not planning on ‘showing’ any people like some kind of pet.”

“No more questions.” Natasha cut in and ushered Tony into the building, meanwhile the reporters tried to get more questions in.

Once inside, she told the head security guard to try and get the paparazzi off of the property. They didn’t need employees’ access to their job impeded by vultures.

“I think that went ok.” Tony commented.

“Definitely a bit more ballsy with their questions.”

“Well, can’t fault them for smelling blood. It’s like their one skill.”

As they got into the elevator, Natasha got a text. “Bruce is apparently being harassed at work. He’s already scared three reporters off.”

Tony sighed. “Sending security would just look weird. Tell him I’ll do my best to be super interesting today. I’ll hang out by the window with the blinds up, I’ll have half an intriguing cell phone conversation where they might be able to read my lips. That should keep them busy, give campus security a chance to catch up.”

“I’ll also recommend he lock his office door and classroom doors so no reporters try to get clever.”

Tony nodded. “Honestly I think I got things on this end if you wanna go help run interference for Bruce. I feel so bad that he’s mixed up in this.”

The elevator opened to Tony’s waiting room, and they went to his office. “Let’s be glad he has a terrifying temper that scares people. It’s great reporter repellant.”

“He’d do better letting them sit through his lectures. They bore easier than they scare.” Tony sighed. “I hope Steve’s doing ok. I know I shouldn’t call during the day but honestly, I feel like I’m going through withdrawal, you know?”

Natasha shrugged. “I guess that’s just the effect of having a Soulmate.”

***

Steve had read every book he’d brought, watched the small amount of DVDs Tony had in the house, and sketched to his heart’s content. Thor said he’d go to his instructors to get his notes and assignments for the next week, which left him in the house alone. Well, maybe not entirely alone. And he still couldn’t stop wondering who this Stane guy was and why he was blocked access from Jarvis. Tony didn’t seem to like him either if that morning was anything to go by.

“Jarvis?”

_“Yes Mr. Rogers?”_

“Okay, first, let’s not call me Mr. Rogers. It sounds too much like that kid’s show guy. You can call me Steve.”

_“Very well, Steve.”_

“So, I was wondering if you had any files on… whoever Mr. Stane is.”

_“Unfortunately, I do not have private access to Mr. Stane’s personal files. However, I can compile mentions of him within Sir’s personal files if you wish. It should take no more than an hour.”_

“Okay.” Steve thought for a moment, then asked. “I know this seems weird to ask, but… how many people has Tony slept with?”

_“May I inquire why you ask?”_

Steve shrugged. “He said I could know anything I wanted, it’s just the first thing I could think of.”

_“I’m afraid you may have to be more specific. I’m quite sophisticated, but I find people often mean different things by ‘slept with’.”_

Steve took a deep breath despite the slight blush on his cheeks. “How many people has he had sex with?”

_“Not to be tiresome, Steve, but I’m afraid that’s not much more specific. It might help you to refine your question if you think seriously about why you want to know.”_

He sat back on the couch and thought about it. It was weird talking to an AI about his problems, especially Tony’s AI. But he didn’t exactly have anyone else to talk to at the moment. He just hoped Jarvis didn’t send everything to Tony.

“I want to know because… I want to see what I’m up against, I guess?”

Jarvis seemed to take a thoughtful pause. _“Would you prefer me to state a raw number, or would you rather I show my work?”_

“Just a number.”

_“Four.”_

Steve was taken aback. Everything Tony had said made it seem like he slept around like the tabloids suggested. He never would have guessed that he’d… had a healthy amount of partners.

“... only four?”

_“Based on the parameters of your query, yes.”_

“Then… how does he have a reputation of sleeping around?”

_“Because Sir frequently has short term sexual encounters with relative strangers for entertainment and pleasure. You asked what you were up against. In terms of attachments with any traits comparable to your relationship with Sir, my records only show four.”_

“So he’s only dated four people, but what about those ‘short term sexual encounters’?”

_“Again, I’m afraid you will need to be more specific.”_

“Goddammit! How many one night stands has he had, Jarvis!? I feel like you’re being intentionally dumb!”

_“I’m not, Steve. Your question is simply more complicated than you seem aware of, and it seems that it’s important enough to you that I give you the answer you actually want.”_

Steve sighed. “I don’t know how else to phrase it… so… how many one night stands has Tony had?”

_“Since I came online in 1995, discounting any published rumor or innuendo from before that point and excluding all instances where contact may have occurred in a setting to which I was not privy, the number is... likely to upset you.”_

“I know people who have had lots of sex. It really doesn’t bother me.”

_“I feel I must disagree, given your fixation on it.”_

Steve didn’t say anything, just fiddled with a thread on the couch. He guessed Jarvis was right. He didn’t exactly know why he wanted to know, but it probably would hurt if he knew the number. He just… he couldn’t help but be curious about Tony’s sexual history.

_“If I may, Steve, I would advise against comparing yourself to others. It seems to be the mass psychological and artistic consensus that it seldom leads to happiness, and mostly leaves one conceited or envious. Moreover, I do not believe that Sir is in the habit of comparing people to one another, so any number I might give you is only likely to put you further away from understanding his side of what’s between you.”_

Jarvis was right, at least about the first part. Steve needed someone to talk to, a human someone.

“Am I allowed to make phone calls?”

_“Yes. Permit me a moment to establish a secure line.”_

“Ok… and when you have, call Bucky.”

_“Right away, Steve.”_

After about two minutes, Jarvis called Bucky, and it ringed three times before he picked up.

Bucky’s shop-voice was a welcome sound. “H’lo? Barnes Bodyworks.”

“Hey Buck.”

“Hey! S-” Bucky caught himself and pretended to blow his nose. “Hey man. How you holding up?”

“Can’t even call me by my name now?”

“You tell me.”

“It’s just… I needed someone to talk to.”

“I got some time to talk. Just got some people nearby.”

“Ok.” Steve tried to phrase this carefully. “I know you sometimes have casual sex, so how do you usually react when someone says they have lots of previous partners?”

The line was silent for some long moments, and Steve couldn’t help picturing Bucky blinking at the receiver. Finally he said,

“I tend to assume they’re telling me because they want me to know. Usually when they want me to know, it’s because they think I might be trying to make up my mind. Usually I’m not.”

“Ok, I ask because, well, I wanted to know how many partners Tony’s had, and apparently it’s way too many. And, I don’t know, it makes me feel… intimidated? And we both know sex is usually how my exes decided to end it.”

Bucky sighed heavily into the receiver. “Steve,” It came out as a reflex, and he grumbled in his throat at the slip. “Man, why do you do this to yourself? Are you making up your mind about him or do you think he’s making up his mind about you based on this? Because if you think it’s important to him, and you’ve already told him your history, that’s all you can do. He’s gonna make his mind up however he does, and if my experience means anything, it’s not gonna have a whole lot to do with some number. If you’re making up your mind about him, well, you just gotta do that. You gotta decide what matters. Would you like him if the number was a million? Or zero?”

Steve really thought for a moment. Was it about the number? Or about how insecure he was? Tony was an amazing guy, and he didn’t even care about Steve’s gender identity. He actually wanted to have sex with him last night, despite the fact that Steve wasn’t wearing a binder or packer. He sighed.

“The number doesn’t bother me. I guess I’m just worried I won’t be as good as them. I mean, we’re not to that point yet, but I’m not even that experienced to begin with. I don’t want him to be disappointed.”

At the other end of the line, Bucky closed his office door and sat down behind his desk. “I hear you, buddy. Ok. So, I try not to big-brother you too much, because god knows you’ve saved my life more often than you’ve ever needed saving. But here’s my big brother and occasional himbo advice for you about this. You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

“So, sex that’s for fun, it’s fun. It’s a lot of fun. But it’s just… it’s not even the same thing as having sex with someone that you… when you mean a lot to each other. I mean, that can be fun, too. A lot of fun. It can be as hot and crazy as you care to go but it’s also… there’s no comparison. There’s more problems, but there’s also time to work through them. And, trust me, when you’re with someone the second time, or the tenth, or the hundredth, you know stuff about them, just them, that the most fluent sexpert in the world doesn’t know and can’t give them.

“So I know you’re gonna worry anyway, because you’re an idiot and it’s basically your hobby, but my advice is don’t worry about it. Just like the guy. Let him like you. Even if the sex isn’t awesome at first, it’ll get there. And there’ll be no comparing you to anyone he’s been with before.”

Steve actually smiled at that. That was probably the problem he had with the guy he did have sex with: he cared about them, but they didn’t care as much about him. And it’s probably why he didn’t actually want his vagina either. It was just sex for that ex, not really a connection.

“Thanks Buck, that… that actually helps.”

Bucky laughed. “Hey I’m as shocked as you are. You ok where you are? They taking care of you?”

“Considering an AI Tony invented himself is running the house I’m at, I think I’m doing okay.”

“That’s good, I guess. So listen, call me tonight if they let you. I worry.”

“And I’ve been worrying about you. Have there been any vultures stalking the place?”

“Not sure. I’m pretty sure there’s one lady who dropped a car off this morning that was prodding me for information about who was around. But if she’s press it means they haven’t zeroed in on you as the most likely suspect yet. They’re just sniffing.”

“So no risk of an episode?”

“Nah, nothing like that. I called Dr. Patil, and she was happy to start me on the anxiety meds again just in case. I’ve got those in the cupboard, but there’s been no trouble yet.”

“Good. And remember if anything happens, just get to somewhere secluded, alright?”

“Roger that.”

“I’ll call you tonight. Thanks again.”

“Sure thing. Love you, man.”

“Love you too.”

They hung up, and Steve actually felt a bit better about himself, and the situation. He was seriously thankful that no photographers had shown up to the garage. Bucky hadn’t had an episode in almost two years, and he didn’t need that streak broken by some asshole with a camera.

***

By the time the second night rolled around, Steve got half of his homework done for his next week of classes. It was definitely difficult to do Physics without Dr. Banner’s help, but he managed (with some help from Jarvis). He had just finished making dinner for himself when Jarvis announced,

_“Sir has just arrived in the driveway, Steve.”_

His smile grew exponentially. “Great.”

Tony knocked on the door and held up his bag of indian take-out like a proud puppy. His face fell when Steve opened the door and the smell of steak wafted out.

“Ah damn,” He said with a lopsided smile. “That smells amazing.”

“But so does the takeout you’ve brought. I can just wrap up my steak and save it for tomorrow.”

Tony stepped up and moved to give Steve a little kiss on the cheek. “You’re too good to me. So how’s your day been?”

Steve lead them inside and shut the door. “Filled with physics equations I barely understand, but also sketches I could easily do.”

Tony lit up. “Can I see?”

“They’re just rough drafts, not the final product.”

“Yeah, but I love process.”

“If you’re sure.”

Steve went over to the coffee table and picked up his school sketchbook. He opened it to the page of rough sketches, mainly of the arc reactor. His instructor wanted him to draw something mechanical and complicated, so it made sense to use Tony’s invention. And Jarvis was a great help projecting file photos of the plant. He handed the sketches to Tony.

Tony held the sketches and looked up at Steve with hopeful interest. He scooted over a little on the sofa to conspicuously make room for Steve to sit with him. Steve easily took the spot next to him, and waited in anticipation for a reaction. Tony leaned back and regarded the sketches seriously one at a time. He nodded slowly.

“Wow, I gotta say, I was all prepared to be really impressed no matter what you handed me because I just like you that much, but now I’m a little intimidated. These are great.”

Steve smiled at the praise. “Thanks. I was thinking of the final sketch being on a graphite wash so the light and shadows are more apparent.”

“Can’t wait. You really got his good side.”

“It’s a machine.”

“So’s everything.” Tony grinned impishly. He turned to Steve and leaned in a little, either to offer him a kiss or let himself be pushed away.

Steve placed a peck on Tony’s lips, just to tease him a bit. “But really you can thank Jarvis. He showed me some projections of the Reactor and it really helped.”

Tony got up and went to the kitchen to rummage for plates. “Thanks J!”

_“It was my pleasure, Sir.”_

Steve followed Tony to the kitchen and started wrapping up his steak dinner. It wouldn’t be as good as it was now after being refrigerated, but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to eat with Tony. He got himself a glass of soda, some forks and spoons, and sat down at the table.

“I wasn’t sure how spicy you like it, so I got kind of an assortment. It’s all still a little on the spicy side, though.”

“Just because I’m Irish doesn’t mean I’m a wimp when it comes to spicy foods.”

“Outstanding.” Tony laid a colorful and fragrant plate in front of Steve with a flourish. “Things have been going ok with running the media gauntlet. After the tabloids have had their fun this weekend and made everything seem implausible, I’ve got a quick sit-down with an entertainment reporter. Just a quick ‘yes I’m in love, yes it’s serious, no we’re not ready to face the crowds, love to all my fans, you’ll be the first to know’ kind of thing.”

“In love?” Steve had stopped mid plating his food at that little statement.

Tony froze. He cleared his throat. “It’s… it’s just the most non-reactive thing to tell them. It helps to… people find it satisfying and non-controversial. If you tell people it’s complicated, they want to dig for more. You say ‘love’ and they feel more like they know what they need to know, like you’re letting them in, like they’re invested in something and don’t want to mess it up it’s…”

He was fluent in PR and was telling the truth but he slowly coasted to a stop and felt the urge to say something crazy. It was too soon, and wildly unfair when he basically had Steve under a form of house arrest, but he couldn’t help wondering how Steve would react if he just dropped the press-packet explanation to admit _and I am in love._

Somehow, Steve felt there was more to that, but he didn’t press it. He nodded and continued loading his plate with curry.

“So it makes them feel like when people think they know Daily Vloggers, even though it’s incredibly edited down.”

“Something like that. The entertainment press aren’t like fans, though. It’s more of a dance. They know that it’s good for them if they can stretch the story out a little. So if you let them know they’ll be on the inside for big developments, they’re less likely to try to harass the golden goose to death. It helps that I’ve been a pretty cooperative staple of their weekend sections for a while. There’s still the paparazzi to worry about. They’re just out to get anything they can, ecology of entertainment news be damned. But I think it’s gonna be ok.”

“Nat’s been sending me updates on everything. Apparently she’s already had to turn away five reporters that got passes from entering your office. She said they’d lied saying they wanted to interview you about the BMW-Stark engine, but she could tell what it really was.”

Tony smiled sheepishly. “Yeah I… I guess that would seem like a big deal. I forget how much of this nonsense is just background radiation to me. Can I - Would you let me say that I’m sorry for all this again or is that just gauche at this point?”

“It wasn’t even your fault. And you’re trying to fix it anyway, so it’s starting to be okay.”

“Still, thanks for being so great. I know it’s not easy on you. I’m trying to get it sorted out as fast as I can.” He gazed at Steve’s sweet clear face, and didn’t especially care that he was probably looking sappy.

Steve noticed Tony staring at him with a goofy grin. “What?”

“Nothing, I just really like looking at you. You’ve got a little smudge of charcoal at your hairline and it’s the cutest thing.”

Steve blushed, but smiled timidly. Usually he hated being called cute, it felt diminutive due to his size. But somehow coming from Tony, it felt genuine.

“It happens sometimes.” Steve took out his phone and checked his reflection. Sure enough, there was a smudge near his right temple. “I should take a shower after this, anyway.”

Tony nodded. “There should be plenty of clean towels. I can get the dishes done while you do that, if you don’t mind me staying.”

“So far the only person I’ve seen today is Thor for five minutes, so you can definitely stay.”

Tony smiled and dug into his dinner.

The conversations they had over dinner flowed easily between them. Tony discussed the tactics he used to keep focus on himself, Steve talked about how the physics he had to do he could barely understand. Before they knew it, the containers were almost empty, and their dinners were finished. And as Steve went upstairs to the shower, he felt weirdly nervous. He was showering in Tony’s home (well, a property) and… it made him think that maybe certain things were moving a bit fast. But he also couldn’t blame Tony for putting him in this position.

Tony gathered up the dishes and containers and sorted them into the sink or the recycling. It felt kind of silly. Like kids playing house. He’d never actually lived in a suburban home like that. He hadn’t wanted for anything, but his parents’ secure luxury apartment hadn’t had a backyard or a porch. It was his house, but it wasn’t his usual habitat. He expected if he tried to live like this every day, driving out from the city to some little nest where his… somebody was waiting for him, the novelty would wear off fast. Probably. For a fantasy it was pretty nice though, the sound of Steve upstairs moving around, the way he could hear the plumbing when the shower was on, like it was all a living thing. It was nice. He took a few moments just to commit it to memory, knowing it wouldn’t last once things were safe for Steve again. Or safer, anyway.

Eventually, Steve got out of the shower and put on some clean pajamas, or rather he had cleaned some clothes earlier that day. Jarvis had to help him figure out the touchscreen washer and dryer set. He went back downstairs and saw Tony sitting on the couch on his phone. Steve would have expected him to be frowning if he was on social media, but he was smiling dreamily. It was almost adorable. So Steve went over to the couch and sat next to him.

“Anything in particular you’re smiling about?”

Tony leaned into Steve’s side and went on scrolling through his music. “I was just thinking. Wondering really. If you liked to dance.”

“Considering I stepped on my prom date’s toes five times, it’s safe to say I’m terrible at it.”

“Well, no pressure,” He turned and pressed a kiss onto Steve’s temple. “I just can’t stay tonight. I thought it might be a nice way to hold you, for a little while, without making you worry. But we can just sit here. And you can trust me.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile. “As long as it’s light swaying, I think I can manage.”

“See, there’s that obstinate bravery I’ve heard so much about!” Tony teased.

He poked a song with his thumb, and something waltzy with brass underneath it started playing, like those old songs from the forties. He hopped up and offered Steve a hand.

“I guess if we’re just swaying we don’t have to get all butch about who leads.” Tony joked.

Steve chuckled and took Tony’s hand as he got up. “I’m too small to lead, I don’t mind.” He wrapped his arms around Tony’s neck and laid his head on his shoulder. “I also don’t mind being taken care of every now and again, for all of my stubbornness.”

“That’s good to hear. I’ve dated a lot of guys where… well not really a lot, I guess… and not exactly dated.” He shook his head in acute self satire and held Steve’s waist, moving him around. “Just you know… guys that get called names a lot who can’t then let themselves relax a little unless it’s total camp. And I get it, it just doesn’t seem like any way to live.”

“I just know my limits. Sometimes I get cocky about what I can do, but most of the time, I’ll admit that I can’t do it once I fail. But even that’s hard to do.”

“I bet you can lead. I bet you’d be great at it.” Tony rested his forehead against Steve’s and smiled. “I mean, really, how many ‘strikes’ do you give yourself when you fail before you decide that you can’t do it?”

“Depends on how determined I am or how much pride I base it on.”

“Well, the secret to leading is mostly in knowing that your partner wants you to; that they’re in your arms and they’re rooting for you, and you can bring them along on something wonderful. I think you’d be great at that.”

“I guess that’s why before I started transitioning, I kept being called a ball-buster and things like that. I easily took charge on projects or in games, and people kept saying ‘you’re a girl, you shouldn’t do that’. My Irish grandmother visited once, and even said ‘a lady doesn’t bark orders like a man’.” Steve chuckled. “Joke’s on them, because I wasn’t a girl at all.”

“I should introduce them to Natasha. Blow their damn minds.”

“Most of them did. And were terrified that they’d have every bone broken if they kept talking to me like that.”

Tony rested his cheek against Steve’s, smelling his own preferred brand of shampoo and feeling selfishly, posessively gratified by the moment before letting it pass.

“Does it bother you to talk about it? Before, I mean?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t hate who I was before. I was always me, but different expectations were put on me. I still like the things I did before I transitioned, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“I remember when I came out. Well, the second time. The first time, I came out to my dad, figured I’d get the worst over with first. He said it would be better for everyone if I went back in. So I did. I’m not real proud of that, but I look at kids who are the age I was then, and I blame myself less.”

“What happened the second time?”

Tony grinned. “The second time was far more literal. I got caught in a closet. At a party. With press.”

“How does that not surprise me?”

He held Steve a little closer and spun them around. “I gotta be me, I guess. Our press agent played it off as a joke, because I was in there with a girl as well as another guy. So the shots of me lip-locking him were passed off as a big embarrassing ‘oops! No homo!’ thing. But then the next time I was asked in person… I just… said it.”

So much of his life had played out in some corner of the public eye that it felt strange to tell Steve and experience a sensation like he was revealing himself. So much of his own story was something other people said about him, but standing there with Steve, just the two of them, and saying it out loud, felt like a new kind of exposure, easy and clear.

“How about you? I mean, how was it when you came out?” Tony asked.

Steve frowned a bit. There were two times he came out: to Bucky and Natasha, and to his mom when she was sick. He tried not to think about the second one so much, but Tony did ask. He took a deep breath.

“My mom had been diagnosed with cancer when I was 16. Stage 3 lymphoma in her brain. I had been planning on waiting until I was 18 to tell her, but they didn’t give her that long if the tumors didn’t shrink. So when we got home one day, two months after her diagnosis, I sat her down in the living room and told her the truth. She thought I was being selfish at first for telling a sick woman about it, but I said that it was because she was sick that I told her. She didn’t really focus on me coming out as much as her own health… and a year later she was gone.”

Tony sighed and didn’t let go as the song cycled to the next. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I should probably remember to bring dessert tomorrow.” He cleared his throat. “I should probably be getting back soon. They watch my building, and if I’m out too late they’ll get more aggressive about following me.”

Steve held on tighter. “One more song?”

Tony nodded. “It’s like you read my mind.”

They danced until the song ended, and said goodbye with a long kiss at the door. Once Steve was in bed, he called Natasha needing a bit of support. He always became a bit depressed when he talked about his mom, but he just hoped that she was looking down on him and proud of him.

***

Tony parked near Stark Hall on the campus and walked across the quad to Bruce’s office. He’d thought about going with a toned-down outfit and car, but he figured he owed it to Bruce to mine-sweep any press on the way out. But when he got to Bruce’s office, he heard a bellowed “GET OUT” and two reporters fled in fear, not even noticing Tony.

Tony walked sheepishly towards Bruce’s door, but the screw-head in him couldn’t help affecting a nasal tone as he called out, “Doctor Banner? I’m with the Daily Chatter…”

“Tony, don’t fucking start.” Bruce groaned.

Bruce looked red faced and his posture said he was about to break something. And given that there was some broken glass near his bookcase which looked like the remnants of a cup, he’d probably done that already. Tony tried to keep an up energy, the better to let Bruce vent at him.

“Sounds like somebody needs a sabbatical.” He leaned one hip on Bruce’s desk and put down the box he’d brought with him. “Thought you should get a little swag since your life’s been turned into a red carpet walk.”

“The best gift you could give me is another scandal so they stop harassing me.” Bruce said as he sat down and opened the box. Inside, there was a very expensive baseball cap with a physics equation on it, and some Louis Vuitton sunglasses. “You want me to keep a low profile by wearing expensive camouflage?”

“No one looks for a college professor in five hundred dollar sunglasses. That’s just science.”

Bruce sighed and forced a smile. “Thank you. It’s really thoughtful.”

Tony pressed his lips together, letting a little sincerity seep through. “I’m really sorry, man. Not in a way that you have to make me feel better about or anything, I just am. I’ll try to do better in the future.” As Bruce opened his mouth to reply he continued hastily. “Also I need your advice.”

Bruce looked confused. “You really want my advice right now?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about this all day, and realized I needed someone smarter than me. I had this great plan, but I’m feeling a little weird about it and I need you to check my math.”

Bruce sighed. “Okay, tell me about it.”

“Ok, well, media handler playbook says to wait a couple weeks then attend something publicly with Steve. Control the narrative, you know? And my mom’s annual gala falls at just the right time to catch the social and entertainment news cycle on a slow week. It seems kinda perfect, but I was dancing with Steve last night and now I don’t know.”

“What made you rethink it?”

Tony got up off the desk and sat down heavily in a chair. “If I say I’m starting to think he’s too good for this evil evil world will you laugh?”

“No.”

“Good. Then, that.”

Bruce sat up and leaned his elbows on his desk. “What’s changed between when the audio was first released and when you saw Steve last night?”

Tony heaved a deep sigh. “He’s just told me some stuff about his life. Stuff that nobody should care about but could get him eaten alive.”

“Then… it’s better if you ask Steve what he thinks. He should get to decide what he wants public and if he’s okay with attending the Gala, since it means he probably won’t have privacy again.”

Tony winced. “I hear you. I hear what you’re saying. Problem is… I mean, what if he decides to go through with this? He really doesn’t understand how bad it can be. Like, he’s been through stuff, he’s not naive, but you know how it is. It’s one thing to look at the water and another thing when you’re in it.” Bruce opened his mouth to reply again but Tony plowed on. “And if he decides not to, if he decides he can’t handle it, or doesn’t want to… I just… I mean that’s it. I’m kind of a package deal at this point in my life.”

“But you’re assuming the worst. You won’t know what he’ll think about this until you ask and he probably has some idea considering where he is right now.”

Tony chuckled ruefully. “The guy with broken glass and reporter urine all over his floor thinks I’m being a catastrophist. Great.”

“Pepper and Nat would tell you the same thing and you know it.”

“Yeah, which is why I came to talk to you.”

Tony got up and paced, the soles of his shoes crackling over shattered remains. He had been semi-subconsciously hoping that he could sorta-kinda bully Bruce into telling him what he wanted to hear to make him go away and let him wallow in his misunderstood-genius torments for a few more days. Long sighs and self-pity had seemed like a terrible-but-livable plan. Apparently the media blitz had run the mild-mannered doctor completely out of fucks to give for his nonsense.

Tony sighed. “I know you’re right, I just don’t want it to be over before it’s really had a chance.”

“Do you _really_ think Steve will leave you? Or is this fear talking?”

“This is fear shrieking and running around waving its stringy arms in the air.”

“And you were afraid when you first found out Steve was your Romantic Soulmate. What does that tell you?”

“That the other shoe is due to drop any day now? Ugh, I’m sorry, man, I’m not trying to be difficult but this is serious Scylla and Charybdis time.”

“I am taking it seriously, that’s why I’m asking these questions. So again: what do your fears in regard to Steve being disproved tell you?”

“That the universe is completely random.”

“What I was getting at is your being afraid isn’t reality. He absolutely cares about you too much to leave you over something like the Mariah Stark Gala, and you care about him too much to let the paparazzi tear you apart. It may not have been that long, but you two are bound to make it out of this.”

Tony stopped dithering long enough for his deeper anxieties to rise to the surface. “Yeah, I hear you. I guess I just feel like… I mean I feel like I already know him so well. And I know that no matter how I frame it he’s gonna say fuck the world and suit up with me in the best tuxes money can buy, and he’s not ever gonna blame me for what happens next. And I feel like, knowing that as clearly as I do, all I’m really doing is passing the buck if I ask him. I’m asking him to sign off on probably the worst decision of his life just so I can claim later that it’s not my fault, that he made a choice. When you and I both know, he won’t be making a choice.”

“He chose to stay with you even after the media released the audio. He’s stayed at that location because he knows you’ll handle it, that you both can handle it. He’s capable of saying no to the Gala, but he’ll feel like he’s being forced if you don’t ask at all. Communicating these fears to him would be the best thing to do so that you can avoid them.”

Tony leaned on his elbows. “Yeah. I should do that. I should. You’re right. I guess I just-”

“Get out of my office before you make up more excuses that I’ll debunk. Just ask, and you’ll have your answer. Anxiety is really not good for your heart rate.”

Tony gave a final put-upon sigh. “Yes, doctor.”

He got up and straightened his coat, put on his sunglasses, and squared his shoulders to swagger across the campus like he wasn’t terrified half to death.

***

Steve cleared up plates as Sam wiped his mouth and sat back in his chair. “I’ll admit, between the sit-down lunch and how much your cooking seems to improve when you’re bored, I’m pretty on-board for this house-arrest thing.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Usually I don’t have an entire kitchen’s worth of food to cook with.”

“I’m only teasing. I can see those little worry lines digging themselves in your forehead. I expect things will calm down soon.”

Steve put the dishes in the dishwasher. “Three more days apparently.” He wiped his hands on a towel. “At this rate I’ll go through Tony’s entire Netflix queue before those days are up.”

Sam stretched. “Only three more days before you can go back to being a shut-in at Bucky’s place instead of here.”

“I’m not a shut-in.” Steve complained as he sat down at the table again. “I have friends I hang out with. You’re sitting here, aren’t you?”

Steve loved Sam, he really did, but the teasing was a bit much at times. However it was cancelled out by Steve being happy that he had company for once. Talking on the phone and talking to Jarvis only worked for so long.

“He’s being ok about it, right? There’s nothing gothic-horror going on when he’s here?”

“What do you mean?”

Sam made a face. “I mean he’s not trying to win you over with Stockholm syndrome, I hope.”

“Of course not. He wouldn’t let me have actual people over if that was his plan.”

“Hmm.” Sam didn’t seem too convinced, but he let it go.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “What are you thinking?”

Sam smiled. “Nothing, man. It’s just such a weird situation. And I’m not even the one in it. I can’t help picturing all the weird stuff a billionaire might get up to, putting his new boyfriend in a spycam house. It’s all very reality-tv, if you think about it.” He glanced towards a corner and started patting his hair for an imaginary audience.

“Well apparently celebrities do this a lot. When the news cycle gets too aggressive, they hide out until it blows over. Tony just didn’t want me tracked by paparazzi, and Bucky… I’m just thankful nothing has triggered an episode yet. Not to mention Tony made sure he couldn’t access the cameras no matter what. He just doesn’t want me hounded by the press.”

“So after this, then what? I mean, is this a new normal you’re prepared to shoulder? Because I don’t think your boy’s getting unfamous any time soon.”

He… hadn’t really thought about that. Tony had told him about possibly being kind of an icon for the LGBT community by being in a public relationship, but could he handle hiding out when there was something big like this? Would he have to hide again when the media found out who he is? But Tony… he was just so energetic and happy when they were together. He made Steve smile just by being himself, and that didn’t happen often with people. It may have been early in the relationship, but Steve felt he was worth it.

“I feel like he’s worth it.”

Sam’s eyebrows lifted and he pursed his lips in appraisal. He nodded slowly. “Well, can’t argue with a feeling like that.”

“I can’t really explain it, but there’s just something… magnetic about him. He has so many talents and passions, and an enthusiasm about them that I haven’t seen in a long time. And the things he creates that aren’t weapons, they could change the world. There are times where I think fate might have made a mistake pairing us up, but then we have moments of just being around each other and I never want them to end. He’s amazing, no matter what the tabloids say.”

Sam gave him a sincere, wistful smile. Then, as if to cut the tension he grinned and asked. “Are you sure he’s not just on cocaine? I hear you gotta test these rich dudes.”

“Sam!” Steve exclaimed.

“What? Ask Thor. Rich people get up to all kinds of weird shit.”

_“I am sorry to interrupt, but Sir has just arrived four hours earlier than scheduled. He asked me to inform you that there is something important he needs to discuss.”_

Steve sighed. “He’s not on cocaine, end of discussion.” He said as he got up and went to the door.

Tony took the porch stairs in a leap and knocked on the door. Then he wiped his palms on his jeans for the fifth time in ten minutes.

Steve opened the door with a smile. “What brings you back so early?”

Tony smiled back, feeling some of the tension evaporate. “Well, I didn’t have a lot I had to do today, and I realized I really need to-.” He noticed another guy at the dining table. “Oh, hi. Damn, I hope I didn’t crash the party.” He gave the guy a small wave.

“It’s okay, we just finished eating anyway.” Steve said as they walked in. “At least you guys are meeting without me sick in bed this time.”

Tony snapped his fingers. “Right! Yeah! Sam, isn’t it?”

Sam nodded and held out a hand. “Yeah, good to see you again. Nice place.”

Tony took Sam’s hand with a moment of trepidation, unsure whether he was the kind of guy to get into macho-hand-crush stuff with the new boyfriend, but Sam’s handshake was just firm and assured. Tony nodded.

“Yeah, it’s a great house. Was in kinda bad shape when I picked it up, but the location.” He stopped, not wanting to get bogged down in small talk.

“Ok, well it sounds like you guys have some stuff to talk about so I’ll get out of here.” He glanced at Steve. “See you this weekend, Steve.” He made a couple second’s significant eye-contact with Tony and let himself out.

Steve let out a breath when the door shut behind him. “Honestly, I was afraid he was going to try intimidation on you. The fact that he didn’t is a good sign.”

Tony nodded. “And yet I’m sufficiently intimidated. Still, someone should warn him that if there’s ever a kick-my-ass conga line, he better not try to line-jump Natasha.”

Steve laughed. “People who know Natasha know better than to cross her. It’s in the ‘How to Be Friends with Natasha Barnes’ handbook.”

Tony felt his smile go all lopsided as he tried to figure out how to stop the pleasant smalltalk and get down to the heavy stuff considering he didn’t want to do either. He sighed.

“Should we sit? Or we could go for a drive?”

“Best not to risk pictures of me and you if things are that crazy.” Steve said as he went to the couch.

Tony nodded. “It’s getting better. Pepper’s doing a bang-up job quietly reminding people how ghoulish and low-brow this sort of thing is. It doesn’t stop people talking, but it makes them talk quieter. But even when this wave has passed, we still gotta figure out how to handle coming out. As a couple I mean.” He crossed and sat, rubbing the back of his neck. “If that’s what you think you want.”

“Well… I have thought about it. And I know that if I want to date you I have to deal with the media too. But… I think you’re worth the trouble.” Steve smiled. “Even if I have to hide out every now and again.”

Tony cracked his knuckles nervously and leaned his elbows on his knees. “I just think you need to know… that you don’t know. I mean, I know you’re smart. I don’t think you’re naive. But there’s just… you really don’t know what you’re getting into. It’s… I mean…” He dropped his head into his hands and sighed.

“Tony, stop.” Steve scooted closer and took Tony’s hands in his. “I don’t care about what they write about me. Or what they think of you for dating me. They’re just trying to make a quick buck. You’re more important than any of that to me, so… just teach me how to deal with them, and I’m sure I’ll catch on quickly.”

Tony smiled weakly and looked down at their piled hands. “Steve, I never learned how to deal with them. I mean, I know how to minimize the fallout. I know how to do the dance. But the actual… the way it felt, the way it feels, when they find something and dig their claws in. I don’t deal with it. I mean when I came out, and they ripped me up, I didn’t deal with that, I didn’t learn from it, I just escaped into myself. That’s kinda what I do.

“My ego, my work, my gleeful persona of self-abuse, I just get away from it, and I don’t let myself have anything that they can hurt me with. But now there’s you. And I… it’s completely selfish why I can’t bear the thought of them getting to you. It just,” He shook his head and put a hand on Steve’s cheek. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough. To let you do this.”

Steve stared at Tony for a moment. He had no idea this meant so much to him, or how badly he dealt with the press. It sort of made sense why there wasn’t much worse scandals out there about him. But Steve was nothing if not stubborn, and when he cared about someone like he did Tony, he’d go to the ends of the Earth for them. He placed his hand over Tony’s.

“I’ve dealt with criticism like that my whole life. I’ve been told by every person imaginable that I’m not who I believe I am, or that I’m going to hell for who I date. I’ve been called every name possible for someone like me, before and after I transitioned. So you need to believe me when I tell you I don’t care about them, and that you are worth it.”

Tony nodded, his face serious. “I know. I know you’re tough. But I promise you, you haven’t been called everything you might be called. And you haven’t been used as a metaphor for gross sex acts by Jay Leno five nights a week for a month. I know we’ll survive it, because we can survive anything, I do believe that, I’m just saying, I can’t drag you through this if your eyes aren’t open.

“They’re going to find out. Casual homophobia, transphobia, any of it, even from every side is not the same thing as getting hit with it by the pros. By writers rooms full of people that see you as a punch line and a paycheck. To be the thing that brings millions of people happiness seeing your name dragged every day. That’s what I’m saying. I do have some idea how bad it is for you, and I’m telling you, what you’re in for with me is worse than you know.”

Steve sighed. “I’ve learned to tune people out. At least when I don’t think it’s worth the energy. And these people aren’t worth the energy, so I’ll tune them out too.” Steve held Tony’s face in his hands. “I’m not going anywhere, Tony. Fate put us together for a reason, and I’m not gonna let some Fox News reporters ruin it for us. I’ve been to protests where there’s been tear gas used, I’ve been spat on, hit in the head with a literal bible, and I have stopped giving a fuck about the people who hate me for who I am. I’m not letting you go through this alone, and I won’t break because of them. So you’ll need to get used to me being with you in photos because I’m not going anywhere. Alright?”

Something shifted inside Tony, and he felt braver. It was still likely to be awful, but Steve’s calm assuring voice carried the promise of _worth it_ right to the pit of his stomach and planted it where it could grow. He looked in Steve’s eyes and saw something unbreakable, something safe that couldn’t be touched by the imperfections of life. Something too good for the world. Something Steve was giving him freely, anyway. He squeezed Steve’s hands.

“Just look me in the eye and say you know that you don’t understand. And I’ll trust you that we can handle it anyway.”

“I know I don’t understand it, and I can handle it. _We_ can handle it. I promise.”

Tony kissed him on the side of his thumb, then his wrist, then pulled him into a hug.

Steve held on tight and kissed Tony’s cheek. “But I can’t promise I won’t smash a few cameras on occasion.”

Tony gave a laugh that was almost a caw. “I’d never ask you to promise that.”

“Then I think we’ll be fine.”

Tony pulled back with a sigh. “So, brass tacks, there’s a benefit coming up. It’s an annual memorial charity ball in my mom’s name. Pepper thinks it’ll be the best time to make our big splash, and I think she’s right. Would you be my date?”

Steve laughed. “Did you basically just ask me to a dance?”

Tony huffed. “I was getting to that part. You have to say yes first.”

“Well, I’ll get to see you in a tuxedo instead of a business suit, so I’ll say yes now and save us the trouble.”

Tony beamed. “Great. That means all we need is a tux for you, which you _will_ let me pay for, and some dance practice.” He grinned and slowly pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Steve couldn’t help but kiss him in that moment. Somehow, the word ‘amazing’ kept replaying in his head as he kissed him. Because that’s what Tony was, amazing and handsome as hell. He pulled back and said,

“Can we worry about that later? Pretty sure we were having a moment.”

Tony nodded. “I can worry as often as you want. And we’re gonna have lots of moments, so I guess we can practice that too.” He tossed his phone on the table and kissed Steve again.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to follow me on twitter and Instagram. Both are under the user @roryqpotter


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets ready for the gala, and interrogates Clint like a good best friend does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: past mentions of homophobia, transphobia, and overall asshole exes.

Steve was so happy to be looking at his apartment again. It was nice to have a bit of a vacation, but he missed home a lot. It was also a day when the shop was closed. So Steve went upstairs, and was shocked by what he saw when he walked into the apartment.

Clint and Bucky kissing on the couch.

“Um…” Steve said.

Bucky jumped a full cushion-width sideways. Clint started laughing.

“To say I’m confused is an understatement.” Steve said as he took his bags to his bed.

Clint looked back and forth between them as Bucky smoothed back his hair and blushed. He sighed.

“If you don’t tell him, I’m gonna. And my version is getting less flattering to you by the second.”

Surprisingly Bucky grinned at that rather than shooting Clint a dirty look, which was their usual routine. He looked sheepishly at Steve.

“I guess I stopped being a jerk?”

“Ok, I know for a fact that’s impossible.” Steve teased. “But Clint, weren’t you dating Natasha?”

Clint gave a smile that was partly a wince. “Yeah. That reminds me I need to call her and let her know the secret’s out. The last couple weeks we’ve been less ‘dating’ and more ‘I go over to her place for pity over having realized my Soulmate doesn’t see me that way’.”

Steve’s jaw dropped. Bucky was Clint’s Soulmate? And Bucky hadn’t noticed? That was… he didn’t know what to think. Bucky smiled sadly and nodded.

“Yeah. It’s complicated.”

He didn’t really want to go into it, how he was just too used to feeling things that weren’t real, how easily stress could cross his wires and leave him thinking he was feeling something when nothing was happening. So he just gave Steve a pleading look and asked,

“So how was it?”

Okay, apparently they weren’t going to talk about this, that was fine. Steve shrugged.

“Tony drove me home, we said goodbye, we’re planning on going on another date soon.”

Bucky frowned. But fair was fair. “You eat?”

“I had something quick before I came, but I could eat.”

Clint got up, messing with his phone, and mussed Bucky’s hair as he passed him on the way to the kitchen. “There’s a lasagna in the fridge,” He grinned impishly back at the couch. “It’s made with loooove.”

Steve rolled his eyes and went to the fridge. He hoped the jokes weren’t going to be a regular thing. Steve reheated the lasagna and sat at the breakfast bar to eat.

“Tony wants me to go to a gala he’s holding this month.” He said as he started eating.

Bucky flicked his scowl up from the floor, but checked himself before saying anything too reflexively protective. “Does that seem… smart?”

“It’ll be our way of coming out officially. We already had a long talk about dealing with the media and I told him I can handle it, which I can. He wants to buy me a tux and give me dancing lessons, and it honestly feels… kinda nice.”

Clint sat down opposite him. “Hey, congratulations, man. That’s a big step.”

Bucky nodded as he got up, his voice gloomy but trying. “Yeah, I’m glad he’s taking this seriously.” He patted Steve on the back on his way past. “I got some work to do. Congrats, man.”

Steve smiled and nodded at Bucky. Once Bucky had left the apartment, it left Steve with Clint, who was on his phone. Which meant Steve could do some interrogating like a good friend does.

“So is this why you’ve been so negative about Tony being my Soulmate?”

“Was I being negative?” Clint blinked innocently.

Steve just gave him a look. “This is a best friend interrogation, so I ask the questions.”

Clint smirked. “Oh it’s like that, is it?”

“And I don’t think I have to tell you that if you hurt Bucky, I’ll rearrange your face so it’s unrecognizable. And so will Natasha.”

“Bah. Probably be an improvement. Anyway Nat’s on my side.” He put down his phone. “So ask.”

“Why didn’t you just say something to Bucky about being his Soulmate?”

Clint rolled his eyes. “Because I never heard of anyone actually _needing_ to say anything to their Soulmate. All the stories you hear, it’s like everyone figures it out at the same time and it’s like getting hit by a truck. Bucky didn’t even flinch or seem like he noticed anything. So, yeah, I’ve been feeling a little stressed out and bitter about the whole concept. And then you get this absolute Prince Snarking out of nowhere, falling all over himself to woo you and I guess I felt like… well ok, like a jealous jagoff. But you get it, right?”

Knowing how Steve and Bucky met, it kind of made sense that he couldn’t pick it up. “Buck thought I was his Romantic Soulmate when we met, so it makes sense why he didn’t notice.”

Clint shrugged. “Sure, whatever you say, love expert.”

Steve lightly kicked Clint in the shin. “Just because I have one doesn’t mean I’m an expert.”

“Yeah but this is supposed to be my interrogation and you just made it all about you. I think being lavished with attention and gifts is finally going to your head. Which, I gotta say, it’s about time.”

“Ok, then how does Natasha feel about you having eyes for someone else but dating her?”

“Are you kidding? She figured it out before I did. We’re friends, Steve. Fuck buddies. I know you don’t ‘get’ that stuff but not everyone in the world gets angry and jealous when someone they care about is happy.”

“And who would be the angry jealous one in this situation?”

“I’m not claiming to have been cool like that where Bucky’s been concerned, I’m just saying Natasha is. We both have seen other people, and we root for each other about it, you know?”

“Wait… Natasha’s been seeing someone? And didn’t tell me?”

Clint smiled. “You’ve been ‘busy’. She knows how you get. She didn’t want to rub it in. I mean, you see what you just did there, right?”

Steve sighed. “Ok fair point.”

Clint smiled warmly and nudged Steve’s shin with his toe. “It’s ok. I’m just glad the last month’s craziness is settling out a little. And all for the better it seems like. I mean, Bucky’s still a little… Bucky, about stuff, but I think being confused about being with me is easier on him than being confused in a completely random and overwhelming way.”

“So… were there any episodes while I was gone? Bucky didn’t call me the last two days, and he usually gets like that if he’s had an episode.”

“He stressed-out a little yesterday morning, but there were no hallucinations or panic spikes, which his doc says is actually a good sign, that there’s some room there between having an intense reaction and having a full episode. We handled it. He couldn’t…” He grinned at his hands. “He couldn’t get why he was still feeling so unsettled and weird if you were doing ok. And I finally stopped being a dipshit and realized he was having feelings, he just wasn’t trusting them or showing them. And it was stressing him out. So I bit the bullet and told him what I thought it was.”

“At least it wasn’t some asshole paparazzi photographers.”

“Yeah, it’s been really quiet, which I guess is good. How was it for you?”

Steve smiled. “It was nice. No one knew where we were, so there weren’t any reporters. I know it sounds crazy, but whenever Tony had time to come see me, it almost felt like _our_ house, like we were living together. And, it felt… it felt great. I almost didn’t want to leave because of it.”

Clint sighed wistfully. “That’s awesome. So did you…?”

Steve blushed. “No! Why the hell would you ask that?”

Clint rolled his eyes. “Gee I don’t know. Because you’re in love with an incredibly handsome billionaire and cohabitating with him and he’s obviously into you and you’re both adults? Not like you have to, but I’m not crazy to ask. Sheez.”

“Well, we didn’t. I told him I wasn’t ready for that, and he respected it… but there was a lot of kissing.”

Clint wiggled happily in his chair. “Aw, that’s so great. It’s great that you could be honest and it was ok. That’s a great feeling.” He glanced at the ceiling and his smile became sly again. “Bucky and I did. Wanna know where?”

“If you say my bed I’m burning it by the tire pile.”

Clint shook his head, feigning victimization. “I can’t believe the man I love more than life itself lives with such a homophobe.”

“I’m not a homophobe considering I am gay!”

“A likely excuse. I bet next you’re gonna tell me that some of your best friends are gay.”

This time Steve kicked Clint in the shin hard.

Clint laughed. “Gay bashing! Gay bashing! I’m being bashed!”

“I don’t know how Bucky’s put up with you for so long.”

Clint got up and went to the sink to start some dishes that looked like they’d been sitting. “Me neither. But he did.” He dropped his voice and said in a breathy gasp. “For _hours._ ”

Steve choked on his lasagna. “Okay, you can stop at any time.”

“Oh but I couldn’t.”

Steve put his fingers in his ears. “I’m not listening!”

Clint involved himself with the dishes, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

***

Steve and Tony had two more dates before Tony took Steve to his tailor. Steve was nervous about being fitted as a trans guy, but Tony seemed totally confident. He just hoped Tony was right about them not being judgemental.

Tony was practically vibrating with excitement. He loved a guy in formal wear, and Steve’s long silhouette seemed to have been made by the god of couture for a black tux.

“Don’t worry. These ladies are the best. They fitted me for every outlandish thing I’ve done since 2003. They’ll love you. Honestly I feel like I’m taking you to meet my parents, but with less louring and judgement.”

“And… they won’t mind about the whole… y’know.”

“They tailor for celebrities. They’ve seen everything. It’s the one upside of moving from small-town stigma to limelight stigma. You’re never going to be the wildest thing anyone’s ever seen.”

“If you’re sure.”

They walked into the shop, and there was an older but obviously fashionable woman behind the front counter with long brown hair, a white blouse with a tape measure hanging from her neck, and black dress pants. She looked up from her book and beamed at Tony. Then she walked out from behind the desk and opened her arms.

“Tony, so good to see you.”

Tony smiled and gave her a hug, and received a graceful air-kiss to each cheek. “Lucinda, my lovely, I have a real treat for you.”

Lucinda looked over and smiled at Steve. “Is this the boyfriend we’ve been hearing so much about?”

Steve smiled shyly and held out his hand. “Steve Rogers, pleasure to meet you.”

Lucinda shook his hand. “Lucinda Carmicle.” She looked back at Tony. “Very much a gentleman, I can see why you like him.”

Tony leered lovingly at Steve. “I was thinking tails. Would that be too much do you think, Luce? He’s got such a great behind and long waist, I kinda want to make the public work for it.”

Steve blushed and Lucinda laughed. “Let the professional see what’s best. I’ve surprised you before with my selections, haven’t I?”

Tony nodded approvingly. “Yes, yes you have. If you think you’ll be ok, I had one other errand to run while we’re in town. Can I leave you two to get acquainted without me foisting my lurid input in every ten seconds?”

Lucinda looked at Steve, who was still a bit unsure. “Steve, Tony called in ahead of time about it, I don’t sell out my clients and I won’t judge. You have my word.”

Steve let out a breath. “I guess I’ll be okay.”

Tony took him by both hands and kissed him on the cheek. “I know you will.” He looked over at Lucinda. “Is Pepina in today? I just want to see her face before I rush off.”

Lucinda nodded and called towards the back room. “Ay, Pepina!”

A little woman with silver hair and crinkled eyes came quietly from the back room, answering in some tripping language Steve didn’t immediately recognize. She looked at Steve and nodded, glancing at Tony and offering a string of approving-sounding words. Tony laughed. She looked back at Steve and by way of explanation said in a thick eastern european accent,

“Nice tushie.”

Steve did not want his ass to be the main focus of this fitting, as it was awkward already being talked about by Tony. He looked to Tony with a pleading expression before being escorted to the back.

“Hey, man, you said you could handle the pressure. This is practically training-wheels day. Be strong!” Tony called to Steve’s vanishing back.

Thankfully, Lucinda and Pepina didn’t put Steve in tails (he never really liked them anyway). It was a simple black tux with a black bowtie. And where it was pinned actually fit unlike when he went shopping on a regular day. He turned around in the full length mirror and admired his reflection, and Lucinda looked approvingly.

“Very sharp. Everyone at the Gala won’t know what to do with how handsome you look.”

“Going in my contacts will definitely help me look better.”

Pepina nodded and murmured something as she took his coat and laid it out on a table. She looked back at him and said,

“Nice eyes, yes.”

The front bell and a friendly call indicated that Tony had returned. Lucinda left for a moment, and returned with Tony in tow. He had a shopping bag, but Steve decided not to ask.

“How do I look?”

Tony smiled. “You look fantastic. Don’t take the pants off yet, though. Might need a little adjusting. C’mere.” He pulled a long, broad, flat box out of his bag and set it on an empty cutting table.

Steve looked at the box, intrigue showing clearly on his face. “Did you buy me some new shirts or something?”

Tony gave a short, nervous laugh. “Something like that. Ok.” He lifted both hands loosely in what Steve had come to recognize as his ‘sales-pitch gesture’. “So, I didn’t want to be presumptuous and try to pick for you, but I also didn’t want you staring at price tags and arguing with me about what you’re worth in public, so I got a selection, and you can choose.”

He took the top off the box to reveal a surprisingly tasteful display of six different high-quality packers, all in Steve’s skin-tone. Steve gasped, speechless. No one had ever done this for him before, he usually had to buy them himself. And he had no idea there was a store that sold this in New York City.

“These are for me? You got these all for me?”

Tony looked worried. “Yeah, I did. I hope that’s ok. I mean, if you don’t like any of them-”

Steve hugged Tony as tightly as he could. “It’s more than okay. I love them.”

Tony hugged him back in silence. He’d been slightly terrified that it would be too much again, or too soon, or too creepy, like he was trying to tailor Steve’s body to his own tastes. He was really bad at gauging that kind of thing in casual situations, and lost his sense of scale completely where Steve was concerned. The relief alone rendered him speechless.

Steve let go and looked back at the packers. “I won’t ask how much these cost, but this is really thoughtful of you. I didn’t think you’d do something like this… I guess I should have expected it after the painting.”

Tony laughed. “Well yeah, that’s the tradition, right? One week anniversary is post-impressionist art treasures, two month anniversary is latex genitals.”

Steve chuckled. “I guess one year is a-.” He stopped himself before he could finish his statement, not sure mentioning a strap on was appropriate.

Tony nodded. “A zeppelin, probably. I’ve never gotten that far.”

“Well, I’ll definitely be around longer than that.”

Tony sucked on his lower lip. “So pick which one you want to wear to the gala so Lucinda can tailor your pants properly.”

Steve took a few minutes to really look at the different packers. He eventually decided on a decently sized one that wouldn’t look like he was hung, but still a decent size, probably five inches.

“This one.”

Lucinda nodded approvingly as Steve got back up on the riser. “Very nice. I like a man who is secure in his masculinity.”

Pepina said something, and then didn’t bother to translate at all.

Tony leaned back on the edge of the cutting table and watched his two fairy godmothers pluck and fuss with his gorgeous guy. They had Steve turn, and Tony caught his breath as he caught the contour of Steve’s ass in dress pants. He grinned to himself and pulled his hand down over his mouth, muttering, “We are gonna break the internet.”

He called over. “Hey Luce, any chance we could still make those pants tear-away?”

“You behave yourself with this nice gentleman.” Lucinda called back.

Steve blushed like a madman. “I’m planning on using this tux again, I don’t want to ruin it.”

Tony studied the ceiling and did his best not to think about how much he definitely wanted to.

Eventually, the tuxedo was pinned in the right places and Steve changed out of it. He also deliberately got on his phone so he didn’t have a heart attack over the price of the tux. His commission work did decent enough so he could pay his half of the bills and rent, but he usually didn’t have much to spend on himself.

Tony was getting used to Steve’s financial anxiety and gave him a wink as Lucinda took his card. “We’re supporting small businesses. These ladies gotta eat.”

“I’m not denying that. But it still makes me think about my bank account balance.”

Tony sighed. “Look, when I’m dragging you through my world, it makes sense for me to furnish the trip. You’re doing me a favor by being willing to navigate this nonsense, and I appreciate it. But I wasn’t kidding when I said this was training wheels day. This is as gentle as the embarrassment and objectification is gonna get. Still think you can handle it?”

Steve took a deep breath. “Just not used to people ogling my ass.”

Tony gave a look of sympathy and concern, and turned away to pack things up. They left the store, and decided to grab a bite to eat before Steve’s first dance lesson. Again, Steve had to keep himself from having a heart attack over the prices of this Manhattan cafe. He sat awkwardly in his seat across from Tony, and warily looked around.

“Will anyone recognize you?”

“Possibly, but I doubt it.”

Steve sighed, unable to think of something to talk about. “So…”

“So…” Tony rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. “Tell me about why you’re still so worried.” He added a Barbara Walters lilt to the last word for funsies.

“Worried about what?”

Tony smirked, but not unkindly. “Whatever it is that’s blocking up your head right now. It’s two in the afternoon, I haven’t done anything to warrant a hangover, but I feel like my brain isn’t working. I assume that’s coming from you.”

Steve rested his arms on the table. “I was just… thinking… about my past relationships.”

Tony nodded gravely and tried not to look too happy that for once it wasn’t him. “Wanna talk about it?”

“I guess we should talk about why things didn’t work out before if we want this to last.” Steve took a deep breath. “I didn’t start dating until I was 24, and by that time I passed well enough to be comfortable dating anyone. I had heard about cis gay guys still dating trans men, so I decided to try that.

“The first guy I dated was named Doug. I thought he’d be okay because he had trans family members, but he couldn’t get past the fact that I still had…” He simply gestured to his chest. “He wanted me to wear a binder all the time when we were together, and if we did anything sexual, it’d always be me doing things for him, he never reciprocated. I was still new to dating so I didn’t know any better, and then we actually got far enough to actually have sex… but he absolutely refused to do anything other than…” Steve blushed. “Anal. I couldn’t wear my binder during it because it would set my asthma off, and he left me a week later.”

Tony’s face had slowly tightened at the top and gone slack around the jaw until he was genuinely gaping. “Jeez. That’s… wow. I know dating in New York is hard but that guy sounds like a prank show.”

Steve shrugged. “I was hurt, but I didn’t let it stop me from dating. I went on a few first dates, and at 25 I started dating a guy named Allen. He _seemed_ different. He’d take me to restaurants, sometimes buy me a gift, but never wanted to do anything sexual. I figured it was a nice change from my first relationship so I went with it… until I saw him on campus two months into our relationship. I saw him holding hands with a girl, acting romantic with her, and I confronted him about it. He acted like he had no idea what I was talking about, and I ended up leaving him. Apparently his parents were the old-school Mexican Catholic types, and if they found out he was dating me, they’d disown him. I was basically his dirty little secret.”

Tony nodded slowly. “Yeah, that guy’s on the bingo card of shitty gay dudes. What else ya got?”

“The last one was Patrick. Usually he’d be dating girls, typical Frat boy type, except he actually helped me during a fight at one of the college bars. We struck up a conversation, which lead to actually dating, but I didn’t know why he wanted to have sex so badly. I wanted to wait because if my first two relationships were anything to go by, I didn’t want it to end so quickly. Turns out he was just acting nice to get a “tranny” on his list of people he’s had sex with. And I found out because I saw texts on his phone when he was in the bathroom, and I almost beat him unconscious, Bucky had to hold me back from hurting him any worse. So that’s why I was single for three years… and I hope you don’t do anything to track these guys down and make their life a living hell since I know you could do that if you wanted.”

Tony laughed and gulped. He had to swallow about six emotions all at once. Steve had such an engaging way of talking, and Tony always had a hard time not interrupting whenever he had a thought. But he’d been reading up on “active listening” because he wanted to be a better friend, and a better person, since meeting Steve. He smiled and coughed once.

“I won’t. Promise. I won’t go after the people in your past if you don’t go after the people in mine. I will, of course, be a good boyfriend, and if we ever move in together I’ll give you equal access to all the resources I have in case _you_ want to go after the guys in your past, but I won’t go all pro-bono on you.”

Steve chuckled. “Well, I think Patrick is scared shitless to approach me on a subway platform again.”

Tony grinned. “What did you do?”

“It’s not what _I_ did, it’s what… this other guy did. There’s this kinda creepy guy who catcalls me, but he never actually makes a move, and most of the time what he says lacks the things you would typically expect in catcalling. Patrick was drunk and approached me while I was waiting for the train, and the creepy guy ended up scaring him enough that he peed himself on the way up to street level. He said his name’s Wade Wilson… and he seemed actually like a nice guy.”

Tony nodded, and tried his best not to be ridiculous, although it did make him a little jealous. With a smile of self-satire he growled,

“Well next time you tell him if any weirdo is gonna over-do a romantic overture at you in public it’s gonna be me. Unless he’s clearly helping you out of a bad situation in which case I guess I’d be a massive schmuck for begrudging him that. Little hero moment.”

Steve smiled, glad that Tony didn’t react badly to Wade’s part of the story. In actuality, he’d found out who the guy was and friended him on Facebook. He had more pop culture references on his timeline than Steve had ever seen, and was actually pretty funny. So Steve picked up a menu and looked at the selections.

“So what about you? I just aired out my relationships, what about yours?”

Tony gave a heavy sigh. “I give you a pop quiz and have to stand for the pop bar exam, ok…” He sat back and thought for a while. “Well, where relationships are concerned, I guess there have been about four? Not counting you?” He felt like a weenie for being so unsure, but he’d been an ethical slut for so long the definitions most people used took some thinking to apply.

“How do you not know how many relationships you were in?”

Tony pressed his lips together. “Well, it’s complicated. Ok, for example. The first person I was ever publicly paired-up with was Pepper. It was right after I tried coming out to my dad for the first time and he,” His voice hitched and he plowed on. “He said I couldn’t so Pepper was my best friend and we had gone to bed a couple times, but she went out with me to make my dad happy and get the media off my ass. We were never a ‘real’ couple, but I still love her as much as I ever did, and always will. Does that count?”

“Um… I don’t think it does if it was just a media stunt?”

“Yeah but it wasn’t ‘just’ anything. I did love her. I do love her. Why is that somehow less-than because we’re not having sex forever? How do I decide which of my encounters count on the constructed rubric of ‘real’ if that’s not?”

Steve sat down his menu and really thought for a moment. He wasn’t exactly an expert, but he at least knew what people typically wanted out of a relationship. Or what he did at least.

“I guess… feeling more than just sexual attraction toward someone, and actually wanting to do things with them beyond the bedroom.”

Tony could feel the little divot between his eyebrows getting tighter. How could he explain to this guy what it does to your sense of self when playgirl magazine does a piece on you when you’re sixteen that includes a day-counter for how long until you’re legal, prompting a flood of fan mail more creepy than almost anything else from men and women twice your age? He shook his head and sighed again.

“I really don’t… I swear I’m not trying to be evasive, I’m just worried I’m gonna leave something out that you think counts and then you’re going to think I lied to you when the fact is… I’m just from a different planet, ok? I just don’t work like that. I can’t. I can’t put people in categories about… who they are to me. I know faces and names and everyone’s different.”

Steve nodded, doing his best to understand. “Then let’s just do who you felt romantically attached to. Does that make it easier?”

Tony shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand what that means well enough to speak with authority. I realize I’m being a total engineer right now but… no. I’ve never arranged my life like that and I have… “ He stopped himself and took a moment to figure out if it would be a disaster to be honest. “I’ve tended to avoid people that do. For their sake as well as my own. Because I don’t understand why it bothers you all, I just know that it does and for some reason it’s my fault.”

Steve reached across the table and held Tony’s hand. “The only reason it bothers me is because I’m sad that you never found someone you thought you could be with. Because it means you felt alone, and I’m sorry we didn’t find each other sooner, so you didn’t have to be alone for so long.”

Tony smiled, and dismounted from taking himself so seriously. “Well, don’t cry for me, Stevearino. I’ve had a lot of fun. And I’ve always thought that being in a bad relationship is a lot worse than being in no relationship. So I’m glad that I’ve had what I had, and I’m glad that I have what I have.”

Steve smiled. “Then never call me Stevearino again and we’ll get along fine.”

“How about Stevaroni?”

Steve groaned playfully. “That’s even worse.”

“Stevadore?”

“Just not adding onto my name like that would be great.”

“Ok, fair. Do I get to ask for something?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“Well, it’s me being a dipshit, obviously, but I just wanted to say… I know it’s your word, and I don’t want you to feel like you can’t vent to me about anything at all and besides that I have no right to ask, but could you not say tr- could you not use the slur that starts with a ‘t’? It really gets under my skin.”

“I internally cringed when I said it, I was demonstrating how much of an asshole Patrick was.”

Tony nodded, relieved. “Ok, good. I just… “ He sighed. “I haven’t always been the pillar of wokeness you see before you. And every mistake I’ve ever made is on film somewhere. And if you go digging,” He looked down. “I’ve been an asshole before. And I don’t want you to give me your blessing on that, I just… didn’t want you to be shocked. Not that I think there’s much that can actually shock you.”

“Well… catching Clint and Bucky making out on the couch certainly shocked me.”

Tony’s eyes went round and his eyebrows jumped into his hairline. “I demand details.”

“They figured out they’re Soulmates, simple as that, unless you want gratuitous details, in which case, I’ll have to pass.”

Tony folded his arms and mulled the thought over without finding a conversational handle, so he just said. “Wow.”

***

“But the flashbulbs will give me a headache.” Steve complained.

“Then take some migraine medicine before you get there.” Natasha countered.

Natasha was at Steve’s apartment, and they had a week until the Gala. She had decided that Steve needed some lessons on how to deal with reporters and photographers at the Gala. And she wasn’t surprised that the advice wasn’t going over too well with Steve.

Bucky leaned on the counter and tried to come up with some advice that didn’t involve hitting things, as that had already been shouted down twice by his stupid, stubborn friends.

“So what do I do if I end up looking like an idiot?” Steve asked.

“You act like it didn’t happen, and the media might love that you’re human. Jennifer Lawrence fell at the Oscars, but everyone was okay with it.”

Bucky grinned. “Yeah, just give them that aw-shucks smile of yours. They’ll love you.”

“I do not have an ‘aw-shucks’ smile.”

Bucky laughed out loud. “The fuck you don’t, man. It’s like you roll out of bed every morning right off the set of the Andy Griffith show.”

Steve looked to Natasha for confirmation, and she shrugged in agreement. Steve sat at his drafting desk and let his head lull back as he spun around in the chair.

“I don’t know how Tony does it. This already seems like a lot.”

“Years of practice. Unfortunately he got started too young.” Natasha said.

Bucky drummed his fingers on the countertop. “You know, I seem to recall you saying that you told him you could handle it. If you’re gonna back out on that you should probably do it sooner rather than later.”

“I said I could handle the _criticism_ , which was what he was worried about.”

“Yeah but look at you dude. The criticism hasn’t even happened yet and you’re already sweating.”

With a groan, Steve sat up. “Fine, I’ll try my best… but that doesn’t mean I’m not scared shitless of looking stupid.”

“And the bravery reveals itself yet again.” Natasha said with a smirk. “And remember, I’ll also be at the gala, so you can search me out if you need to.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Or play spot the ninja Nat if you get bored.” Bucky grabbed an apple off the table and took a bite.

“Or I could play an actual phone game… but you already said it makes me seem… conceited?”

“It makes you seem like you’re bored of everything and not taking coming out seriously. And you can’t risk looking like that this time.” Nat explained.

“Okay, so smile at the cameras, let Tony answer the questions, don’t play phone games, and don’t get drunk. Got it.”

Bucky had a thought. “Maybe you could have a code word. With Tony. Like you gave me back when I was just out of the hospital. Something to let him know if you’re in trouble and can’t think.”

Steve really thought for a moment about a possible code word. It definitely had to be something that wouldn’t be randomly brought up in casual conversation, but also not too out of left field. After a few moments, he came up with,

“Shield.”

Natasha nodded in approval. “There isn’t anything shield-related at the Gala, so that works. Just make sure to tell Tony before the Gala so you have that system in place.”

Bucky sighed. “Calm down, mama bear, I think he knows how it works.”

“It’s my boss dating my little brother, how do you expect me to act?”

“Exactly like that.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to follow me on twitter and Instagram. Both are under the user @roryqpotter


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is time for the Mariah Stark Gala... but someone crashes the event and causes a scene.
> 
> Well, at least Tony gets laid at the end of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: transphobia, violence, and smut

Tony quadrupled-checked the estimated-arrival-time on the GPS, still uneasy even though it was still predicting that he was right on time. He thought, for the eighth time, about turning on some music, but he knew himself when he was that nervous and feeling distracted just made it worse. Better to just obsess. He parked in front of the garage and straightened his tux before heading up the stairs.

Steve checked himself in the mirror for the fifth time. He made sure he had his inhaler, pain killers, eye drops, wallet, phone, and keys in the pockets of his tux. He was extremely nervous, mainly because of the type of people who would be there. These were socialites with millions of dollars, probably used to all the cameras and glam. Steve had decided he would stick with Tony as much as he could in order to not feel overwhelmed, and they had agreed on the code word. And his heart jumped in his throat when there was a knock on the door. With a steadying breath, Steve left the bathroom and opened the front door.

Tony caught his breath behind a reflexive leer. “Well damn. Look at you.” Steve looked taller, stronger, in his tux, even if he was clearly perspiring.

Steve smiled shyly at Tony, who looked damn good in a full tuxedo. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

Tony tried to summon up some small talk, but it honestly felt like they had suited up for a mission. They both knew the job. Time to get all steely and cut the chit chat.

“You ready?”

“If I say no, will you cancel the whole thing and save us the trouble?”

“Yes. Always. Wanna got to Tahiti instead?”

Steve stepped out of the apartment and locked the door. “I burn too easily for the amount of sun. Don’t think you wanna spend a weekend applying aloe on me.”

Tony smiled. “Maybe another time.” He held out an elbow. “Let’s go be night creatures.”

Steve took his elbow and they headed to the car. The whole car ride, Steve was fidgeting with his phone to try and tune out the nerves. After all the preparations and lessons he’d gotten, it felt like he was going to the front on Italy to fight Nazis, not go to an annual Gala. When he realized his phone wasn’t going to help, he reached over and held Tony’s hand. Tony gave him an affirming squeeze. 

They pulled into the line of cars in the drive up to the red carpet. It felt more than a little like getting pulled up the first hill of a roller coaster. When it was their turn, Tony got out first and came around to the passenger door. It took awhile for him to open it, because he wanted to let the photographers get a good gawk at the paint job and field a couple questions before he unveiled the artist.

With an impresario’s flourish he opened Steve’s door and stepped back.

Steve hesitantly got out and took Tony’s arm. A valet took Tony’s keys and immediately Steve felt out of his element with all the cameras and the beautiful people around him. They started making their way down the red carpet, and Tony answered a question once in a while, mostly introducing Steve as his boyfriend… which honestly made this whole circus feel worth it. Every time Tony said any variation of “This is Steve, my boyfriend” he smiled a bit wider. Eventually they made it through the front door and into the foyer, and Steve was getting a headache from the flashbulbs.

Tony had forgotten to warn Steve that walking the carpet was kind of like being underwater. You had to shout to be heard, and never quite felt like you could hear anyway, and the whole fishbowl aspect was pretty obvious. Overall the indicators were good. The right people were smiling, the right people were throwing shady looks, and Steve had a fantastic smile for cameras. Stepping through the front doors was like getting through an airlock, and Tony took a deep breath. Without missing a stride they went to the top of the stairs that lead down into the ballroom and took their fashionably-late time walking down arm in arm, letting everyone take a good look.

“Did I do okay?” Steve asked.

“You’re doing great.”

“Let’s see if I can keep that up for four hours. There’s bets going on for when I’ll tap out.”

Tony gave an offended huff. “And nobody cut me in?”

“Leaving to have sex with you was one of the reasons they bet for leaving early.”

Tony nodded and gave him a little tug. “I vote that one. Are we voting? I vote that one.”

“If everything goes well, it could possibly go that way.” Steve said with a dirty smirk.

“Ok, so when we get to the bottom of the stairs, we’ll make one circuit, say hellos, browse the hors devours, then if you’re feeling up for it, hit the dance floor, if you’re not, do some conspicuous pillar-leaning.”

“I’ll only dance if it’s a slow song.”

“You’re adorable. Everyone here is either old money or pretending they are. They’re all slow songs.”

“Do rich people even have fun?”

“Not in public.”

They made it to the ballroom, and it looked absolutely gorgeous. There wasn’t much in the way of decorating for the Gala itself, but it had a high ceiling, chandeliers, tables covered in very expensive looking table cloths, and wait, was that Beyonce? Steve held onto Tony’s arm tighter, and asked,

“So who are you schmoozing first?”

“It’s my party. The invitations were my peak schmooze. Everything else is just fielding anyone who decides they want to schmooze me back. Holden! Hey how are ya!”

A man with silver hair and a mildly-sloshed gait came sauntering towards them with an avuncular smile. Tony bowed his head closer to Steve’s and whispered,

“Holden Stillwell, Massachusetts money but spends it on arts in Manhattan. He met my mom exactly once and tells me the same story every single year. Nice guy.”

Tony smiled wide as the other guy clasped his hand and shook it while starting with, “I’ll never forget the time I met Maria and your father in Paris…” Until he finished with. “...it’s so good to see you’re doing well.”

Steve thought his brain was going to shut off by the end of the story. Interesting, yes, but Tony seemed to be extremely bored and annoyed by this story.

Tony clapped him on the shoulder and said, “So great to see you, Holden. Meet my boyfriend, this is Steve.” Holden proceeded to clasp Steve’s hand and chuckle his way through an almost-endearing admonition to keep an eye on Tony and take good care of him. He excused himself again as smoothly as he’d wandered up, and with as little warning.

Tony gave Steve a wide smile. “And now we just do that thirty or forty more times. Everyone knows the dance. It’s weirdly relaxing once you get used to it. Fake as hell, but not a lot of surprises.”

“Just let me know if we meet someone who isn’t exactly… accepting. And I’m gonna take a wild guess that Holden talks about meeting your parents every chance he gets.”

“Every chance I give him, certainly. Edgar! You old so-and-so, I guess they’ll let anybody in here!”

Tony went on giving Steve mini biographies that he had no expectation of being remembered and Steve went on smiling and nodding like a champ. Slowly they worked their way around the beautiful room among the beautiful people being generally pleasant and beautiful. 

Once they came to a stop near the bar, Steve was thankful that they got through everyone Tony deemed necessary to talk to. It seemed both of them could use a drink… or three. At least Steve could.

Tony snagged a small fistful of bacon puffs off a tray. “Nuh uh, no booze until you eat more.” He held one up experimentally, to see if Steve was willing to attempt cute-feeding in public.

Steve gave Tony a look. “This whole telepathy thing makes it really hard to get things past you.” He took the bacon puff out of Tony’s hand and took a bite, and it was amazing. “Who did you hire to cook for this thing? This is amazing.”

“No more trade secrets until at least the six month mark. I already showed you my tailors.”

Tony’s hand tightened on Steve’s wrist and his voice dropped to a lower whisper than he’d used on any of his mini bios.

“Ok, give me a small kiss and excuse yourself to the bathroom. Give me two minutes and come back, or I’ll find you.” He was smiling widely but sounded angry, and muttered to himself, “How in the fuck did he get in here…?”

Steve followed Tony’s eyes and saw a tall, older man in an expensive suit. The very way he walked looked self important, and he was scanning the room like he was searching for an animal to kill.

“Who’s that?”

Tony’s smile didn’t budge but his eyes were pleading. “Steve, go. Please go. I’ll be right behind you, I promise.”

Despite wanting to stay and face the asshole with Tony, Steve nodded and headed to the direction of the men’s room. He could just feel from Tony that this guy had a long history with him, and that he was a bad man. When he got to the bathroom, he let himself sag against the wall and sit down on one of the cushioned benches, waiting for his boyfriend.

Tony broke his own rule and grabbed a drink off the bar. He slammed it back as his eyes locked with Obadiah's, and he left his smile with it on the bar. He wandered towards him before Stane could close the distance.

“Thought you’d come to one last gala for old time’s sake before I scrub the system of the last of your imprints?”

Stane gave a calculated look, similar to when he was in business meetings. “I can at least say hello to a few friends, can’t I?”

“You wanna say hi to friends, get an Instagram. And then get some friends.”

“Tony, some of the people here are benefactors for the company… or did your new boyfriend make you forget that?”

Tony put a hand on Stane’s shoulder like a greeting, but squeezed tighter than was cordial. “I think you should tread very carefully.”

“Or… should I call him your  _ girl _ friend?”

Tony felt his temperature rising. “You’ve been calling me names since I was eight years old, you massive prick. We’re done. You’re leaving. Now.” He patted him warmly and gave a loud laugh.

Steve could feel rage coming off of Tony, and couldn’t sit still anymore. He left the men’s room and weaved his way through the crowd to find Tony. He thought he saw Natasha on the way there, but he didn’t care, he just needed to help Tony. Steve finally found him talking to the man they saw earlier, and could tell that Tony was two seconds away from decking the guy. He tugged Tony’s arm and said,

“Let’s step outside for a minute.”

Tony froze, and smiled slowly. He gathered Steve’s arm around his.

“Obadiah Stane, this is my boyfriend, Steve Rogers. Steve, this is Obadiah. He’s going to say hello, and then he’s leaving.”

Steve shot Stane a warning glare, but all it caused was an ugly smile to appear on his face. Steve remembered the things Jarvis had come up with when he stayed at the blow-over house. No wonder why Tony was kicking him out of the company.

“I would have thought a dress would be more appropriate for you.”

Tony snatched his empty glass off the bar and broke it across Stane’s jaw in a burst of red. A loud gasp and a few sharp yells went around the room, but Tony was like a boulder headed downhill. He lunged at the guy as he stumbled backwards and hit him in the same spot again, breaking his knuckles open on embedded glass.

“TONY STOP!” Steve shouted.

Steve grabbed Tony’s arm, and out of nowhere Natasha grabbed his other arm and they pulled him back from Stane. Tony was struggling to get back into the fight, but the two held on tight. Steve couldn’t deny that it was satisfying seeing a transphobic asshole get the shit beaten out of him, but there were people filming on their phones and photographers taking pictures.

Tony turned to Natasha and said loudly, “If he tries to stand up before he apologizes, you can shoot him. He’s trespassing.”

“Tony enough!” Natasha snapped, then looked at Steve. “Take him out of here, make sure he gets cleaned up.”

Tony glared at her. “You’re fucking useless. Don’t you ever talk to me about defending Steve.”

“Who do you think has been doing it since she was 8 years old? But I never got assault charges. Now go.”

Tony had already cut away from her by the second word, fuming. Every time. Every single fucking time. All his life. He had better not embarrass anyone. He had better protect the family. He had better protect the company. He had better protect  _ the children _ from needing to know what a homosexual is. And then the second Stane was trying to beat the gay out of him at his father’s unspoken behest, suddenly that was his fault too, and nobody said a fucking thing to protect him. Even his own fucking employees apparently. He headed for the garage and kept a stony silence, knowing if he gave Steve room to say anything and Steve decided to join in on trying to tell him that he was in the wrong, it was all over.

Steve followed behind Tony, and was terrified about police. He’d been to jail a few times over the scuffles he was in, he didn’t want them coming out to be that way. He had managed to grab a rag off of a waiter and was prepared to look at Tony’s hand when they were calmed down a bit more. Or at least until they got to Steve’s apartment, because he needed tweezers. The valet brought up the car, and Tony got in with a slam of his door. Steve got in as well and buckled his seatbelt.

“I asked you to wait for me.”

“And you were fuming so badly that I could feel it all the way in the bathroom.”

Tony shook his head and peeled out of the parking lot before the reporters got word of what was happening.

“He’s done things like that before, hasn’t he?” Steve asked. “And that was your breaking point?”

Tony was rapidly realizing that he shouldn’t be driving. “I said I would protect you.” It didn’t make much sense, but it was all he could come up with as he turned down the wrong street.

Steve undid his tie. “What about the police? Aren’t you worried about that?”

Tony scoffed. “Not really. He was trespassing. I can claim I was grieving. My annual orphan grieve. People love that shit.”

It felt so wrong to Steve that he would lie about that, but at the same time, he knew Tony would go to jail if he didn’t lie. He let out a breath and leaned back in his seat.

“When we get back, I’ll clean up your hand. I have a first aid kit at home.”

Tony looked at his hand and it took a second to register, thinking for a moment, in his hyper-adrenalized state, that he’d gotten some kind of black stain on his hand from punching the devil. He took a deep breath.

“I think I need to pull over.”

“Can we wait until we get back to my apartment?”

“Yeah. Yeah that’s smart.”

After a very silent drive to Brooklyn, Steve had Tony park in the back lot so no rogue cameras would see them. Then he got out the rag he got from the waiter and wrapped it around Tony’s injured hand.

“Keep that on until we get upstairs.” He said as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

“It’s mostly his blood. The cut hit one of my callouses.” He hit a patch of wordlessness as the adrenaline dropped him. He reached into the glove compartment for the small first aid kit and wiped most of the blood off with the rag. “God, I’m gonna get so sued. Worth it.”

Steve got out the tweezers from the kit, turned on the interior light, and started digging out shards of glass. “He’s done things like that before, right?”

Tony nodded but didn’t look up. “Better not to let him get going, I thought.” 

“So you thought shattering a glass in his face was the best way to shut him up?”

Tony smirked. “On those specific criteria, yes.”

Steve smiled. “I would’ve just broken his nose or kicked him in the dick. I should have figured you’d go over the top.”

Tony sighed and tried not to shake as Steve fished for tiny razor pebbles in his skin. “I like to think I was being bold and decisive. I mean, why start a fight when you can finish it first?” He tried not to let the emotions get up into his face, but he couldn’t help it. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you or scare you or… I don’t know. Are you ok?”

“I should be asking you that… you didn’t embarrass or scare me, but it did shock me. And I’m a bit worried about assault charges from him.”

Tony’s smile trembled. “So you’re not upset, just disappointed.” He shrugged, his mood dropping into his stomach. “You’re in plentiful company.”

“Tony, I’m not disappointed, I’m just worried about you.” He flipped over Tony’s hand, and saw nasty pieces of glass in his palm. “We’ll need to go upstairs to get that out.”

Tony had sort of stopped listening. He knew it was a shitty thing to do, but he hated this conversation more than any other. He put his hand over Steve’s to stop him.

“Listen. I’m not mad at you either but I’d really… it’s been a long evening and I’d really like to skip the part where you feel like you have to make a case for how I blew it so we can part as friends. I get it. I’m familiar.”

“What the hell are you talking about!?” Steve was seriously confused. “Why do you think I’m leaving you over this? You were defending me, why would I leave if you were defending me?”

Tony swallowed, confused. “Because that’s this conversation, isn’t it? You’re not angry, you’re disappointed, you’re not disappointed, you’re just worried, it’s not my fault but you can’t handle the stress and that’s reasonable-.”

Steve stopped him mid-sentence with a kiss, mainly because he didn’t seem like he would shut up. How Tony went from defending him to thinking he’d leave was beyond Steve, but fuck if what he did didn’t make him more in love. He held onto his shoulders and pulled Tony close.

Tony didn’t whimper. Big heroic protective billionaire geniuses don’t whimper when their boyfriends kiss them and they’re overcome with relief and love and longing. He definitely  _ definitely _ didn’t whimper when Steve kissed him. He cupped Steve’s jaw in one hand and kissed him back.

Steve deepened the kiss, and even slipped in some tongue (which he thought he was bad at before Tony). He moaned a little from every sensation he was feeling, and yet it wasn’t enough. He  _ needed _ Tony, needed him like he needed water. He’d been slightly turned on all night from Tony being in a tuxedo. In a moment of bravery, Steve climbed over the armrest and fancy stick-shift, and straddled Tony’s lap.

Tony hit the catch under the seat and slid it back from the wheel as far as it would go, scooping and lifting Steve around the waist to help bring him over. He shifted a little to get Steve’s knees settled and slid his hands up the slope of his thighs, taking him by the hips and pulling him in close, and untucked his fancy tailored shirt as he ran his hands up his sides.

Steve sighed from the feeling of Tony’s calloused hands moving up his sides, and didn’t want him to do all the work. He assaulted his boyfriend’s mouth with kisses, undid his tie, and started unbuttoning Tony’s shirt button by button. He kissed every newly exposed patch of skin, then he felt Tony’s hands reach his binder, and Tony tugged on it.

“Do you want this on or off?”

Steve blushed, but took off his tuxedo jacket, and reached the front of his shirt. The binder he was wearing was clasped at the front, so he needed proper access. He undid the first five buttons, and his heart rate picked up as each button was released. He’d only done this kind of thing for doctors, and his ex didn’t count since he refused to even look at them. He wanted to prove to Tony that he was putting everything into this relationship, and that he trusted Tony with everything he had. When he started to work on the clasps, he could feel the relief of pressure being released that he did every time he took off his binder. And when his breasts were fully exposed, he waited with baited breath for Tony’s reaction.

Things slowed as Steve opened the buttons down his front, exposing the plain taupe of his binder. Tony almost didn’t want him to do it, almost didn’t feel worthy of that degree of trust, after all of his big bombastic over-done mistakes. But as usual, everything about the way Steve moved and looked quieted him. The streetlights and moonlight on his fine collar bones and the fact that he could see his skin move as he blushed and breathed made everything else go away, and it was just Steve, trusting him. He took down the clasps, and Tony traced the lines of his sternum, the way his ribs swept apart, the almost mythical-seeming way that there could be more of this impossibly perfect man as far down as Tony might want to go.

Steve waited for Tony to do…  _ something _ . He felt a bit self-conscious being looked at, but the look of absolute lust and awe in Tony’s eyes was breathtaking. He didn’t usually do this for anyone, but Tony, he could do whatever he wanted and it wouldn’t hurt him. Steve knew that like he knew English. He took a shuddering breath and said,

“You can touch them, I don’t mind.”

Tony was never one to tackle a physical task half way. Reverently, he touched the place where Steve’s shirt gaped open, taking the rest of the buttons down until his long, lean torso was open to view. He slid his hands up to his shoulders again, pushed his fingers under his shirt and binder and everything. He wanted to push everything back and off in a piece, and asked huskily,

“Is this ok?”

“You don’t need to ask.”

A little shrug, and the top half of Steve’s clothing fell to the floor of the car. He felt so exposed in that moment, in more ways than one. He almost shivered in lust and emotion, but instead took one of Tony’s hands and kissed it gently on its palm.

“You can do anything you want.” Steve affirmed.

Tony slid his hand around the back of Steve’s neck, the other traced down his bare arm to his waist, pulled his naked skin flush against his body and kissed him with renewed ardor. He gripped him greedily, tracing damp and hot-breathed kisses down his neck and along his shoulder, intoxicated by his skin and ready to go on a bender. He let his hand slide up, over the small divots between Steve’s ribs, to under his arm, then slowly around, slid his palm to cover the soft swell of flesh over Steve’s heart, sighed and started to kiss his sternum.

Steve gasped, the callouses on Tony’s hand rubbed onto his nipple. He held onto the seat behind Tony, and could feel his erection against his thigh. As Tony squeezed his breast and kissed his chest, he knew he needed to do something in return. He lowered his ass a bit and ground down onto Tony’s bulge, and heard Tony gasp from the contact.

Tony moaned and moved with Steve’s pressing weight. Everything seemed to adjust so easily, so perfectly. The feel of Steve caressing him through his clothes with his body made him growl and writhe. He let him go for just a moment and took his own shirt by the buttons, ripping it open and scattering buttons everywhere. He pulled Steve to him again, needing his skin, needing to feel him warm and breathing and real because it was just so hard to believe otherwise, that he’d found someone so right.

He took one nipple in his mouth and slowed, tasting blood. He looked and realized that, while he wasn’t actively bleeding, he was still leaving little rusty marks all over Steve whenever he touched him, and his cut hand had begun to ache and feel stiff. He tried to strategize, but it was just so easy to hit the snooze alarm on everything else and just focus on the sounds Steve made as he licked him. He went to his other breast and murmured,

“I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”

Steve flinched when he felt something rough against his back. He pulled back and rubbed the spot, and noticed some spots of dried blood on him. That’s right, Tony had those big pieces of glass still in his hand. He sighed.

“Can’t go any further if you still have glass in your hand.”

Tony grinned. “No worries, I’m fine staying like this.”

“Then let me take care of it so I at least feel better. I don’t want the glass to get embedded in your hand so it can’t come out.”

Tony groaned. Stupid reality. “Ok. Is captain sunshine gonna be up there if we go up to clean my bloody paw?”

Steve blushed and cleared his throat. “He bet on the leaving to have sex thing, so he’s staying with Clint for the night.”

Tony grinned, still nibbling on Steve as idly as a if he were a tray of fancy desserts. “Technically we left to avoid the fuzz. Did anyone bet on that?”

Steve moaned. “Thor did. But I guess three people win because it’s a mixed result.”

“Four, at least.” Tony murmured as he grazed.

“You don’t count since you’re a part of what they were betting on.”

“On the contrary, I think they’re all settling for participation trophies.” His hand flinched on its own and he sucked a breath. “Crap, ok, let’s go clean this thing out.” He giggled to himself. “At least Stane is gonna be losing his homophobic mind thinking I might have given him AIDs.”

“Do me a favor and never make a joke about AIDs again.” Steve said as he got off of Tony’s lap.

Tony nodded. “Ok. I am clean, by the way. That’s not a come-on to try and get you to skip the condoms or anything, just, don’t worry.” He climbed out awkwardly without touching too much of the interior.

Steve grabbed his shirt from the driver’s side floor and haphazardly put it on. “And I was born barren, so there’d be no chance of pregnancy to worry about.”

He got his coat and binder, and lead Tony up the back stairs to the apartment. As promised, it was quiet and dark with no one in sight. Steve sat his keys on the end table by the door, took off his shoes, and gestured for Tony to sit at the breakfast bar while he searched the cupboards for the first aid kit. Bucky had quite a few accidents when they first moved in together, specifically in the kitchen due to getting used to having one arm, so they just kept it in the kitchen.

Tony helped out by filling a bowl with warm water and letting his hand soak at the bar while Steve searched to make the skin more pliable and get the blood cleared off. He also toed off his shoes once he sat down. When Steve came back he smiled.

“Here, put that down, I have a request.”

Steve sat the kit on the counter. “If it’s that we get out whipped cream I’m gonna have to pass.”

Tony shook his head. “Nothing so frivolous. I promise.” With his free hand he tugged Steve close and pushed his shirt off his shoulders. “It sounds like we’re in this together. You and me against the world, at least sometimes.”  

“Yeah…?”

He stretched his wounded hand out along the edge of the bar and cued Steve to turn and rest his back against Tony’s front as he tended to his hand.

“So I want to see what kind of field medic you are under pressure, soldier.” He pulled Steve back against his lap on the stool and ran a finger across the back of his neck and down his shoulder blades. “If you think you’re up for it.”

Steve shivered at the touch, but was never one to back down from a challenge. “I said I  _ wanted _ to be a soldier, not that I  _ am _ one.” He said as he got out the rubbing alcohol and some cotton balls.

Tony slid his hand around Steve’s ribs and cupped his breast, softly, drawing him close enough to kiss the backs of his shoulders. “Not with that attitude you’re not. If I can tend to you through the pain, you should be able to tend to me through the pleasure.”

Steve gasped, and continued to disinfect the area on Tony’s hand. He was starting to get wet and hard in his pants and his hand faltered for a split second. However, he soldiered on and got the tweezers to start pulling the glass out.

“I-I would’ve been a Captain, with that attitude.”

Tony nodded and breathed the scent of his skin like ether. “No doubt.”

He flinched as Steve pulled a slim shard out of the meat of his thumb, and he bit down just a little in surprise. Steve didn’t waver, and he went on kissing and fondling him as his hips shifted between his legs.

A particularly small and deep piece sent Steve digging, and Tony gasped loudly. “Ahhh, so, death bed confession, I did some reading.”

“What kind of reading?” Steve decided to get a little payback by pressing his ass into Tony’s crotch.

“About… the human body. Not porn. Some articles. Some blogs. I mean, I may have gotten off on it, a little, or a lot, but only because it kept making me think about you.”

Steve felt Tony tug at his nipple, and he bit back a moan. “Porn blogs?” He went for the really nasty shard at the base of Tony’s hand, and started to pull slowly. “Imagining positions we could do?”

Tony let out a clenched squeal and rested his forehead on Steve’s back to try and steady himself until the shot of blinding pain passed. “Owwww fuck fuck fuck fuck, not all porn. Not even mostly porn. I mean, some porn, yeah, but the blogs were better. Stuff by trans men, talking about their experience. About what works. So I could at least… adjust my fantasies accordingly.”

Steve finally got the piece out and laid it on the counter, as Tony had stopped due to the pain. “You looked up how to have sex with a trans guy to jerk off?”

“Well… I mean, the jerking off just kind of happened. I just didn’t want it all to be on you. To explain everything to me from scratch. And I’m not gonna cis-splain to you or anything, I just wanted to understand. And want to. The fact that thinking about it even in clinical terms got me really hot is just a bonus… no pun intended.”

Steve got out some antibiotic ointment, gauze, and medical tape. “That’s a first for me. Usually people can’t get past the whole vagina and breasts thing. Almost like a male with those things doesn’t compute.”

Tony sighed as the subsidence of intense pain translated into a form of pleasure, and he caressed Steve from his throat back to the under curve of his breast. He pressed against him and murmured,

“I don’t want to get past it. You’re the most amazing guy I’ve ever met, and anything that gives you pleasure, or makes you wanna fuck my brains out on whatever end of whatever thing best does the job, I want to be into it.” He let his hand stray a little lower, thumbing at the top of Steve’s trouser button.

_ Finally, _ Steve finished with Tony’s hand, and he was thankful because Tony was the biggest fucking tease in the world. He didn’t even clean anything up, just turned around and pulled Tony to his feet.

“Show me then, because that didn’t really sound convincing.”

Tony popped and dropped Steve’s trousers with one hand like a pro, and hoisted him up onto the edge of the counter with one arm around his waist and his wounded hand steadying him. He caressed Steve’s cheek and looked him in the eye for any sign of apprehension before beginning to kiss him again. 

Steve kissed back and wrapped his arms and legs around Tony. Just the sensation of Tony’s bulge against his clothed privates was a thrill, and he wanted Tony inside him badly. He pushed Tony’s shirt and jacket off of his shoulders and kissed down his neck, grinding his crotch into Tony’s.

Tony felt Steve’s bare skin against his, and it was better than driving with the top down. He took Steve’s wrists and guided his hands back to the countertop, and slowly began to kiss his way down his body. He didn’t linger over his nipples and instead let his anticipation build as he mouthed his way down to the top of his boxers.

Steve reached into his boxers and took the packer out. He just randomly threw it over Tony’s shoulder, not caring where it landed. This had been the closest anyone had been to his vagina in a sexual way, and the anticipation was killing him. He hooked his legs over Tony’s shoulders and wordlessly pulled him in.

Tony was more surprised than he probably should have been to find that Steve’s vagina had a distinctly masculine smell. It made sense, considering the hormone therapy made him smell like a man everywhere else, but he’d never realized how distinctly different from a female vagina a male vagina would automatically seem. He’d worried there would be some hard cognitive dissonance, but it was so easy. He slid Steve’s clothing off and ran his lips through his soft pubes. He always defaulted to slow progress to let a new partner collect their thoughts and muster any objections, and to generally be a frustrating ass if there weren’t any.

“Jesus Christ.” Steve groaned in annoyance. “If you don’t know what to do, just suck me off.” Granted, Steve never experienced that before, but Tony seemed to be his first in everything, and he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

Tony tutted. “Language.”

But he put his head down and nuzzled in against the thick finger-length shaft straining from between Steve’s wet folds. He explored the smooth length of it inward with his tongue, and closed his lips around it as he reached the base. 

“FUCK!” Steve practically screamed.

His head was lulled back and his eyes were shut, desperate to not come on the spot. Sure, he could orgasm multiple times, but it seemed sad to finish as soon as Tony’s lips were on him. As Tony moved back and forth on his cock, his legs trembled and his knuckles went white. He’d been deprived of this far too long.

Tony loved the slickness and responsiveness of Steve’s cock, how it felt in his mouth, how he could suck it down until his lips were flush against his pelvis and then slide his tongue a little further to tease his wet slit. It was the sexiest thing he had ever tasted. He licked his length and tongued his supple base, wanting to rub his own cock against Steve’s so bad he ached, but wanting more to feel Steve come in his mouth.

Steve couldn’t help but lace his fingers through Tony’s hair and look down at the beautiful picture between his legs. Just seeing Tony move back and forth was amazing enough, but to also feel it in real life was beyond comparison. He almost wanted to cry because it was what he thought about the first time he thought about Tony this way. And all too soon, Steve felt his orgasm hit him like a ton of bricks. He let out a high pitch gasp and, fuck, he was probably getting Tony’s face wet from his come.

Tony held Steve’s hips and kept moving steadily as his orgasm rattled the countertop. He sucked down his hot juices and moaned hungrily for more, pressing him right up until that moment where the fading tension of orgasm tipped over into post-coital hypersensitivity. He backed out slowly and kissed his way back up Steve’s heaving chest. 

“Fucking… hell…” Steve gasped between breaths.

Tony nipped at his lower lip and whispered, “You kiss your horny boyfriend with that mouth?”

Steve chuckled and kissed Tony full on the mouth, no mercy with his tongue and teeth. Then he pulled back and whispered,

“I’m not letting you fuck me on the counter.”

Tony nodded in firm agreement. “Counters are for eating.”

“And apparently sucking off boyfriends.”

“Precisely. So what surface am I carrying you to?”

“You’re not carrying me.” Steve said defiantly as he hopped off the counter and pulled Tony by the seam of his dress pants. “I’ll be dragging you to my perfectly good bed so we can be comfortable.” He pulled Tony all the way to his bed in the corner.

“But I could though,” Tony said with a grin and a sarcastic simper. “I’m really really buuutch.”

Steve pushed him onto the bed. “You’re more vain than even the gayest of men. That doesn’t seem butch to me.” He straddled Tony’s hips and kissed him hard.

Tony scoffed. “On the contrary, my fragile ego is my most masculine attribute. That and the fact that I, like, build stuff,” He mumbled between kisses. “with like, tools and fire and stuff.”

“Seen it before.” Steve slowly and carefully slid his hand down Tony’s front and cupped his erection through his dress pants. “I guess the real test is how you use this.”

Tony gasped helplessly. “Just tell me where.”

Steve leaned down next to his ear. “The spot no one has fucked me yet.” He wasn’t usually this smooth, but with Tony, it all seemed easy, and he wasn’t nervous at all.

Tony gave a little push to see if Steve would let him turn over on top of him.

Steve practically pulled Tony onto him and slid his hand into Tony’s dress pants. He didn’t leave any room for mercy, he squeezed Tony’s cock and stroked. It was big, but not comically so. Steve thought it might be intimidating, and it wasn’t. He actually wanted it inside him as soon as he could.

Tony undid his pants and slid everything off, kicking a little awkwardly to get the last of it off his ankle. He settled on top of Steve and kissed him as Steve pulled and panted.

“Easy,” He whispered. “we’ll get there.” He rested against his whole length and found his balance, just relishing the intoxicating closeness and the bright vivid sense of being all alone with the right person at the center of their own universe. 

Steve opened his legs wider, and wrapped his arms around Tony’s back. He could almost feel Tony’s pulse under his hands, and there was nowhere else he’d rather be at that moment. It was like everything else in the world didn’t matter, just them doing this together for the first time.

Tony’s kisses slowed and wandered over Steve’s cheeks. He breathed calmly, and shifted. When his smooth head settled against the right spot, he pressed his forehead against Steve’s, exhaled, and pushed inside him. 

Steve’s fingernails dug into Tony’s back as he entered him. He hurt, but he felt incredible at the same time. He couldn’t process any other sensation other than Tony’s cock sliding into him. The stretch, the fullness, how it rubbed in just the right spots, it was unbelievable.

Tony gave a groan that seemed to come from the whole length of his body and shifted very slowly. “Oh god,” He withdrew just an inch and resettled deep. “Oh god, don’t move, oh… oh… I don’t know if it’s the… oh fuck.” He pulled out a little further and sank again like a victim drowning. “... whether it’s a Soulmate thing, or the adrenaline, or the endorphins, or just that you’re so… so… oh god I’m not gonna last…” He held Steve tight and tried not to move.

Steve was panting just from the shallow thrusts Tony gave him, and he was thankful that they had stopped for a bit. It was almost embarrassing how close Steve was after only three tiny thrusts, and the right spots were being hit at once. He held tightly back, and gasped,

“I’m not gonna last either. You’re just… so fucking amazing.”

Tony couldn’t find any more words. He tried to slide gently, to grind more than pump, to do everything he could to savor the journey but after only a few minutes the end came careening up over him like a truck in the dark.

Steve groaned as he felt Tony release inside of him, and came because of it. He could barely think beyond the pleasure he was feeling, and he felt so content like this. They stopped for a while, just in each other’s arms and breathing heavily, and he kissed Tony gently.

Tony grinned. Usually going off so quick made him feel self-conscious and like he had to make excuses, but there with Steve he just felt enormous contentment… and a certainty that it was only part one of a much longer night. He nuzzled into Steve’s hair and whispered, 

“You wanna go again?” 

Steve smiled back. “I could do this all day.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to follow me on twitter and Instagram. Both are under the user @roryqpotter


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things never seem to go as planned with Tony, and it almost costs him his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: car crash and graphic depiction of injuries.

Tony didn’t sleep more than to drowse for a little while between powerful urges to get all tangled up with Steve again. But eventually the alarm on the table went off anyway, and it felt like being shaken out of a dream. It took a while to get dressed because he couldn’t stop staring at the way Steve stretched and assembled himself for the day. As he pulled away from the garage and headed back towards Manhattan to get cleaned up, he kept revisiting what a sweet, crazy, terrifying night it had been with an unshakable smile.

Halfway through his drive, he got a call on his phone from Pepper, and he answered it.

“Hey Pep!”

“Hey, can you explain to me what exactly happened last night? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you.”

“Stane crashed the party and tried to make a scene. He was bothering my guests and talking crazy, so I asked him nicely to leave and he declined. And Pep-.” He grinned wider. “Pep I felt like it was just time. Like I’ve been waiting my whole life for something worth hitting him back over, and it finally happened. And I know what you’re gonna say, but it was the right thing to do, and I’m not sorry so don’t even.”

“Well your ‘perfect moment’ has caused a meeting to be called with the Board of Directors. They’re holding a meeting to discuss your mental state for assaulting a former employee at a public event.”

“Good for them. The coffee at those things is pretty good. Seems like a nice day for it.”

“Tony, this is serious. Nat told me that the meeting involves possibly asking you to step down as CEO because they think that the display at the Gala was crossing the line. The photos and video have been spreading like wildfire with the hashtag #StarkHasLostIt.”

“They can ask all they want. They don’t have the power to remove me. I’m not an idiot, Pep, I still own controlling interest and am the actual brain behind seventy-three percent of everything we produce. If weird eccentric displays were a real issue my dad would have been out on his ear a dozen times over. So they wanna yell at me. Fine. I’ll wait for the class-action suit from the shareholders before I worry. And in the unlikely event that that even materializes, I’ll just pay them.”

Before the conversation could continue, Tony went through an intersection, and an SUV hit him. The car flipped and everything went black.

***

Steve couldn’t stop smiling while he cleaned up the apartment, mainly because it was a reminder of what had happened the night before. The smell of sex on Steve’s bed as he changed the sheets was even enough to make him remember how amazing Tony was as a lover.

But then, he felt something odd. Like a jolt, then nothing. He didn’t know what it was, and he worried a bit. Just to be safe, he sent a text to Tony asking if he was okay, and went on with cleaning.

Eventually Bucky came back home… with Nat. They both looked extremely worried.

“What’s going on?”

Bucky crossed to the bed and sat. “Come here and sit down and I’ll tell you. It’s not good news.”

Steve hesitantly sat down, and could feel how worried Bucky was.

Bucky looked him in the eyes. “There was an accident. Tony’s alive, but he’s hurt. We’ve got the car downstairs, we’re headed to the hospital.”

“Wait, what accident?” Steve’s heart dropped to his stomach.

“A truck ran an intersection. That’s all we know so far.”

Steve’s eyes widened, and he looked to Natasha. She nodded sadly, and that was all Steve needed. He ran to the front door to grab his shoes and they went to the car downstairs. The whole drive Steve was trembling in his seat. That explained the weird feeling he had earlier and why Tony didn’t text back. He couldn’t help but worry how bad the injuries were and if Tony would even recover fully from them.

When they got to the hospital, Steve saw Tony being rolled in on a stretcher. His face had cuts on them, his tux ripped and he looked terrible. Steve ran with the medics into the ER. They were saying things to each other that he didn’t understand, and nurses stopped him when they went behind a door.

“Only family can come through here.”

“But I’m his Soulmate!”

“And his fiance!” A voice said behind him.

Nat and Bucky walked up to them. “They got engaged after the Gala last night, so he is family.”

Steve had never been so thankful that Natasha was such a good liar. It seemed to work as they said he could go through, but Bucky and Nat had to stay in the waiting room. They lead him to the bed Tony was at and there were multiple nurses and doctors around Tony.

A short nurse with a stern look but a gentle voice gestured to a chair in the corner. “Please have a seat. We’re doing everything we can.”

Despite the overwhelming urge to stay by Tony’s side, he did as he was told and just watched the nurses work on his Soulmate. He was constantly on the edge of tears as time stretched on and he could barely handle it.

After a long time and a lot of very scary things said in very calm tones, one of the doctors came over to talk to him. “We’re going to be moving him upstairs soon. You might be more comfortable out in the waiting room with your friends.”

“I’m not leaving him.”

The doctor nodded patiently. “It will only be about an hour getting him moved and settled, and then it will be a lot easier for you to sit with him.”

“I don’t care, I’m staying with him.”

The doctor nodded and went back to the slowly thinning group of people surrounding Tony as he was transferred to a mobile bed.

Steve followed them all the way to the room they put Tony in and watched them hook him up to different IVs and monitors. After an hour, they told Steve what all was wrong with Tony. Apparently he had three broken ribs, his right arm was broken, and his left leg. They’d have to test for a concussion when he woke up too.

Finally, they were left alone. Steve sat on the left side of Tony’s bed and held his hand. He finally let himself cry then and took off his glasses. He couldn’t understand why they couldn’t just be happy, why they kept having bad things happen to get in the way. It was cruel and unfair, and Tony didn’t deserve it.

***

Tony had the strangest sense that he was rebooting. It wasn’t the slow clearing fog of sleep or the gathering ache of waking up from a blackout. One minute he was completely dark, completely blank, and the next he could hear small repeating mechanical noises, air-flow, and a steady incessant beeping. He tried to open his eyes but only one seemed to be working, and once he’d gotten it open, it apparently took a lot of time buffering before it would show him any images. Everything was blurry, and he couldn’t turn his head.

Steve had fallen asleep two hours prior, but he was suddenly waking up. His head was lying on Tony’s bed and he was still holding his hand. He looked up, and saw that Tony’s eye was open.

“Hey.” He said softly.

“Mmmm.” Tony tried to remember what had happened, but everything was sludgy. For a moment he thought he might have gotten the bad end of starting a fight with Stane. Then he remembered that he’d gone back to Steve’s place, and wondered if maybe he’d gotten too creative in bed. It hurt to smile, but he did it anyway.

“Hey gorgeous.” His voice sounded weird to him.

Steve gently ran a hand through Tony’s hair. “How are you feeling?”

Tony chuckled. “Pulpy.”

“I’m guessing that’s bad.”

Tony sighed and let his eye slide closed again. It wasn’t helping, and the room felt way too bright.

“Better than the alternative, I guess. What did I do this time?”

Steve frowned. “They said you were in a car crash, a truck ran an intersection and hit you.”

Tony felt a stab of grief. “Is the car ok?”

“Don’t worry about it. All that matters is that you’re safe now.”

It occurred to Tony that the pain medicine and probable concussion were making him emotional, but he couldn’t help it. “Don’t worry about it? That’s your artwork. That’s our baby.” His not-working eyes still had functioning tear-duct protocols, apparently, and he could feel droplets running down his temples towards his ears.

“Hey,” Steve soothed as he wiped Tony’s tears. “We can do the design again, you can get another car, it’ll be fine.”

Steve’s touch calmed him, and he sniffled like a little kid. “Yeah. Yeah we can do another one.”

Steve was touched that Tony worried about the car, but that didn’t matter as much as Tony being okay. He knew that there’d be a chance of the design getting ruined, that’s just how it was when you owned a car. But they had the resources to do it again. He sighed.

“The doctors said you were lucky. You have a few broken bones and some glass cuts, but nothing serious.”

Tony raised his right hand to where he could see it and felt another ridiculous stab of something important having gone missing. “They changed your bandage.” He sniffled again. “They didn’t have to do that. Why did they do that? I didn’t ask them to do that.” He felt dizzy, like he might fall asleep.

“I don’t know. They’re medical professionals, it’s what they do.” He could tell Tony was slipping out of consciousness, and he kissed his hand. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“I messed up, huh?” He felt himself fading out. “I do that a lot.”

Then he was out.

***

Due to Tony’s accident, the media and internet stopped focusing on the Gala as much as the car wreck. The other driver hadn’t been found, even two days later, and it was incredibly difficult to find them because the SUV had no plates and the driver had fled from the scene by the time EMTs and police arrived. Steve stayed with Tony every day he was in the hospital, and was kept up to date on Tony’s recovery.

So it was no surprise that Tony wasn’t happy that he’d need an aid when he went home.

“How am I supposed to integrate some stranger into my security protocols? Especially now when we’re taking heavy fire? Honestly if I were any angrier or crazier I would think this was a hit more than a hit and run.”

“Mr. Stark, you can’t just do everything on your own when you return to Stark Tower. Not only will you need help moving around and doing things like bathing, but you’ll need rehabilitation when you’re well enough. I’m sure your PA can vet a suitable nurse to help you.”

Tony grumbled at the thought of Nat selecting someone to boss him around, certain that he would end up with Nurse Ratchet. He shook his head.

“Me and Steve and Jarvis can figure it out. I’ll get someone. Or I’ll build something.”

“And how are you supposed to build  _ anything _ when your right arm is broken?” Steve asked.

Tony grinned. “Blindfolded and backwards, if I want it to be any fun at all.”

There were a few more minutes of arguing between the nurse and Tony, and Steve had had enough.

“I’ll stay with you if you don’t want to bring a stranger into your home.”

Tony’s eyes got teary, and he quietly blamed the concussion. “I’d like that. I mean, I’ll also hire someone in case there’s heavy lifting, but as long as I’ve got someone on my side checking the nanny cam, that might just be tolerable. But what about your classes?”

“I can do a mental health drop, which is applicable for taking care of someone. I’ll just do a summer semester after this one.”

Tony winced. “Yeah, but you already get sick a lot. You need to save your schedule slack for you. Maybe the school would let me rig something, so you can kinda telecommute? It might help keep you from going squirrelly locked up with me.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve been a great student in all of my years of college, so taking a mental health leave to help you isn’t anything big.”

Tony gave an exasperated sigh. “Dude, you gotta give me something here. The way this works is I take a step back from being a macho stoic douche just for the sake of form, and you give a little ground too in letting me help defray the costs of your saintly self-sacrifice.”

“Do you really think I’d be able to handle doing finals  _ and _ taking care of you?”

Tony got that stubborn look. “If that’s really the choice, then I don’t want you around for this. You don’t get to waste half a semester for me. I forbid it. I’ll take Natasha’s torture nurse first.”

“Too bad, Nat was already moving some of my stuff into the Tower for when you came home. So you’re stuck with me.”

“I’ll stay in a hotel. And wait until she remembers who she works for.”

“And will that hotel supply a caregiver while you recover for three months?”

“You underestimate the surreal powers of money and an amazing insurance plan. I’m serious, man, if you force this martyrdom of yours on me, I’m going to be miserable. Please don’t.”

Steve’s expression softened, and he held Tony’s hand.

“Tony, I want to help you through this. I’d be miserable going to class and worrying how you were doing with someone you didn’t know. If I do a mental health drop, my grades won’t suffer and I can take them the next semester with those points. So we’re not negotiating, I’ll be helping you.”

“No. Go home. You’re right. We’re not negotiating. I am not accepting this precedent.”

“Says the guy who consistently skipped meetings to come see me.  _ And _ put me up at one of his properties during a media frenzy. And should I remind you that you cut up a transphobe’s face with a shattered glass?”

“Yeah, because I know exactly what each of those things cost me, and it was nothing like half a year of my life. I’m serious Steve. I do not accept this. You are not going to drop your life just because I get a booboo. That’s not healthy and I’m not having it. End of discussion.”

“But this isn’t just a scraped knee or something minor. You have six different bones on three different parts of your body broken. You expect me to just sit by and let you go through that alone? That’s not happening, and I don’t give a shit about what it does to my classes. I can make it up easily, and it won’t be that big of a deal.”

“Thing being that I don’t believe you. See how annoying that is? Being treated like you don’t know how your own life works?”

Steve stood up in a huff and left the room. If they kept going at each other like that, he’d explode, and Tony didn’t deserve that, not after everything he’d done for him. Why couldn’t he understand that this was more important than classes? And how much it scared Steve that Tony was like that at all?

Tony sighed and made the prudent decision not to bang his concussed head against the wall, no matter how dearly he wanted to. He’d seen too many times when his mom dropped her whole life, all her autonomy, all her goals, as if they weren’t important, just to mollify his dad or “support the company image”. He refused to be like that. He refused to let love make Steve be like that. But he hadn’t meant to be such an utter putz about it. 

He pulled out his phone and thumbed an awkward text with his left hand.  _ ‘You can come by every evening and stay. I’ll give you a full report. I’ll let you know if anything is wrong. I’ll try harder knowing I’m going to see you. Please don’t drop school. I can get all the stupid butt-wiping details handled. I won’t be a burden. Just come home to me at night and I’ll ask about your day. Please.’ _ It took almost twenty minutes.

Steve glared at the text, and banged his fist against the bathroom wall. He knew he couldn’t pull the ‘send me my work’ trick again, and he couldn’t bear not helping Tony. With a deep breath, he left the bathroom, and noticed someone suspicious in the hallway. It was a tall guy in boring clothes, but when he turned, Steve could see he was recording video on his phone. Steve kept his distance as he followed the guy, and he was heading for Tony’s room. It was a fucking paparazzo. Steve marched right up to him and grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

The photographer just gave a smarmy smile and held up a small recorder. “Hi there, what’s your name? Are you here with Tony Stark?”

“None of your damn business.” Steve took the recorder out of the guy’s hand and took out the batteries and tape. “You need to leave.”

The photographer didn’t even seem like he’d heard him. He backed up a few steps and raised a camera that flashed rapidly.

“Hey, that’s great, you’re cute when you’re mad. You must be the boyfriend. He likes ‘em all twinky like you. How long have you-”

Steve grabbed the camera by the lense and threw the camera on the ground, smashing it. Then he grabbed the guy by his shirt collar and kneed him in the nuts. While the guy was on the ground Steve said,

“If I see you or any other fucking paparazzi here, you’ll get broken bones instead of a photo. You got it?”

The guy gave a breathless pained chuckle and a thumbs-up. “Yeah, we can continue this interview in court, genius. Security!”

Some security guards started to come Steve’s way, but Steve quickly turned around and said,

“This man was trying to break into Tony Stark’s room, he’s trespassing and I was defending Tony.”

The guards helped the man up and gave each of them a hairy eyeball. “Names?”

“Steve Rogers, Tony’s boyfriend.”

The photographer, still slightly stooped, said, “Dan DeLeon. I need to sit down and I want to file a report on this guy. He tried to mug me.”

“Seriously? I have your tape and your camera is smashed on the ground! I also saw you recording on your phone earlier, you were about to go into Tony’s room and take photos. So honestly, I should be reporting  _ you _ for trespassing and violating hospital policy.”

The security guards traded a look, and one began lead the hobbled photographer away. The other turned to Steve and checked his visitor pass.

“Did you want to file a report, sir?”

“Absolutely. People like him need to be banned from hospitals altogether if they’re stooping that low.”

The guard nodded. “Ok, stay here, I’ll bring the paperwork to Mr. Stark’s room and see if I can get an officer to come in to take your statement. Hopefully it’s a slow day.”

Once the guard walked away, Steve let out a breath and let his shoulders sag. He definitely didn’t want to deal with this on a college campus, if that one guy was anything to go by. How the hell would he be able to handle that? Eventually, the security guard told him he could go back to Tony’s room, and so he did.

Tony looked up from definitely-not-crying as Steve came in.

“There was a paparazzi photographer trying to come to your room.” Steve said as he sat down. “Security took him away, and a cop will be here so he can take my statement.”

Tony nodded. “Smart.”

“And I don’t think that asshole will be able to piss without it hurting for awhile.”

Tony smirked proudly. “That’s my hero.”

Steve leaned back in his chair. “He also recognized me. He started taking pictures of me… and it made me realize that if I go back to campus now, there could be more people like him following me around.”

Tony felt himself jumping to the conclusion that Steve was going to argue with him some more, but pushed it down. As much as he didn’t want to give ground on the issue of Steve’s life being every bit as valuable as his own, he also didn’t want to be a tyrannical control freak about it. He might drop dead of the irony alone. He nodded.

“So what do you want to do?”

“You said something about video calls earlier, right?” He sighed and took off his glasses to rub his eyes. “I should have just said yes to that, but I guess I’m still not entirely comfortable with you doing things like that for me. It’s hard to get used to that kind of lifestyle… but I need to get used to it. So, I’m sorry.”

Tony’s face got all trembly. “I’m sorry too. And if I ever utter the phrase ‘end of discussion’ again, you get to kick me in the little paparazzo.”

Steve actually laughed at that. “You need a better name for it, then.”

“C’mere.” Tony grunted as he tried to sit forward a little. “Help me hug you.”

As carefully as he could, Steve moved over to Tony’s bed and embraced him around his shoulders. Tony could only hug him with one arm, but it was enough. Steve gave him a kiss on his temple, and whispered,

“Stark Jr is a good name for it.”

“You assume he doesn’t already have one.”

“Because I think you’d be above naming it with everything else going on in your life.”

Tony laughed. “And you’ve even met me and everything. I mean I have to call it something when I’m blaming it for my bad decisions. Mostly dummy. Which I guess is pretty close to naming it after myself.”

“Isn’t that the name of one of your robots?”

“Yeah, but I name all my buildings Stark and that’s already my name. Do I get to name yours?”

“No, because you’d also be naming my vagina, which is just too weird.”

Tony shrugged. “If you say so. I could come up with names for your packers.”

“I’ll actually agree to that, but the names have to be agreed on.”

Tony nodded, his eyes getting heavy. “I really hate this concussion. Half an hour sitting up and talking and I feel like I just went ten rounds with a semi truck.”

Steve pulled back and placed a kiss on Tony’s forehead. “Go back to sleep. It’s okay.”

He nodded, as stuff started to fuzz at the edges. “Love you.”

Steve was taken aback for a second. They hadn’t actually said it yet, and Steve didn’t want to say it too soon. But he guessed if anyone would say it first, it’d be Tony.

“I love you too.”

***

When Tony was released from the hospital, they made sure to be escorted out of the back entrance and to be escorted by security guards. They didn’t want another paparazzo incident so soon. And when they got to the front of the Tower, Steve stared at it in awe. He’d never actually been to Tony’s before, they’d always gone to a restaurant or to Steve’s apartment. If this was how impressive it was from the outside, he couldn’t imagine how it looked on the inside.

Tony felt a twinge of foreboding that had become part of the background radiation of his life since meeting Steve, the worry that maybe his soulmate really couldn’t handle any part of his life, good or bad. He did sort of live on Mars, and he knew it. He’d always known that the sorts of towers he lived in would give any sane person vertigo. All the same, he’d never really minded until it was Steve. Watching the person he utterly and irrationally couldn’t lose gape at his home base like it was some kind of awesome and impossible monster felt like watching David stride up to Goliath, and he felt like he could only watch.

“You designed this building?” Steve asked.

“Partly. It was actually Pepper’s idea. She ran so much more of my life than anyone even knows to give her credit for.”

“Well, I can definitely see how it’s  _ your _ building.”

Tony grinned. “Yeah, it’s pretty proud of itself. The top eight floors are all design and development. The residence is underneath.”

“I would have thought you’d have a giant penthouse apartment on the top floor like you see in movies.”

“Nah, most of my waking time I spend upstairs anyway. Who needs a view while they’re asleep?”

Happy brought them to the underground garage, and Steve helped Tony out of the car and into his wheelchair. They went to the elevator, and Steve just stared at the enormous amount of buttons on the grid. It was a bit overwhelming.

“Which floor is it?”

Tony gave him a sly grin and said, “Take me home.”

The doors chirped and closed, and Jarvis’ voice said, “Welcome home, Sir.” The elevator started moving.

After a few minutes, the doors opened again, and Steve just stared at it. Everything was sleek, curved, and modern, even the walls. The softness of it came from the warm colors and inviting seating arrangements. It was like everything was designed to imply that it could be all hard edges and chrome, and seemed all the softer and friendlier for stopping short of that. Or else it was just like the backseat of a high end roadster in apartment form.

“Wow.” Steve whispered in awe.

Happy pushed Tony’s wheelchair out onto the thick carpeting and Tony cleared his throat. “Yeah, come on in. Make yourself comfortable. The bedrooms are down that- that-” He grimaced as he had to point across himself and his immobile arm towards a hallway at the end of the wall. “That way. You can have whichever one you like. All the windows are programmable, so if you don’t like the view, they can look like a wall.”

“Smart windows… okay then.”

Steve went down the hallway, and noticed a note on one of the doors on the left side in Natasha’s handwriting. It said  _ ‘You’re stuff is in here… but I doubt you’ll actually sleep here.’ _ . She knew him too well. He opened the door and was immediately greeted by a beautiful view of Manhattan. The entire wall was a window, the bed was a Queen size with cream colors linens, night stands with expensive looking lamps on each side, a flat screen TV on a wall, and a dresser. He also wasn’t surprised that there was an ensuite bathroom that looked more expensive than six months of his rent. He sat down on the extremely comfortable bed, and noticed that his sketchbooks and school books were on top of the dresser. That’s right, he still had to do the video call thing. He’d get to it when he could.

An energetic collage of bickering over strategy filtered down the hallway, punctuated by a loud grunt from Happy and a yelp from Tony. There was a brief silence followed by Tony saying bemusedly,

“Well I guess that’s one way to do it.”

Happy sounded testy. “I took care of my dad for years, I know a thing or two.”

Steve followed the sounds and saw Tony safely on his enormous bed and Happy moving his wheelchair out of the way. Already his medications were on the nightstand.

Tony wallowed halfway onto his side after his chair. “Hey, c’mon, leave that over here. What if I want to get up?”

Happy’s head wobbled to imitate Tony’s agitation as he parked the chair in the corner. “Well then you press the shiny red button and I come help you so you don’t break yourself more.”

Tony lay back and contented himself with playing with the adjustable bed settings, raising his head up a little higher and elevating his legs as Happy continued to putter. He noticed Steve in the doorway.

“Hey, first rule: in or out, don’t hover, it makes me jumpy. Did you pick a room?”

“Natasha apparently already picked my room and moved my things in. Beautiful view, though.” Steve said as he walked into the room.

“Can you see your house from here?” He grinned. He’d spent enough time staring towards Brooklyn to know it was just out of view behind some taller apartments.

“Wasn’t really paying attention.” Steve held Tony’s hand. “You feeling okay?”

Tony nodded. “Yeah. Still a little more tired than I should be for riding in a car and then riding in an elevator. But yeah.”

“That’s good, it means the concussion is starting to wear off.”

“I was thinking I might watch some mindless TV. Wanna climb in, or would you rather explore?”

“I could use some relaxation after the last week.” Steve said as he got onto the other side of the bed.

Tony smiled sappily at the sight of  _ his boyfriend _ in his bed in his house. “I already had Nat visit with your professors. Everyone’s on board to let you attend lectures remotely, just gotta get the tech into the rooms tomorrow and you’ll be all set to try it out on Monday. You’ll have to type questions, they didn’t want to have any screens or amps in the room, but you’ll be able to see and hear everything like you’re really there.”

“That’s good. But just to be clear, if you need anything at all, I’ll take a break and help you.”

Tony sighed and rested back into his pillows. “Yeah ok. Just not too often. Happy gets territorial when he has a job.”

Happy’s voice called from the en suite. “I heard that. And you’re not wrong. You’re gonna recuperate and be nurtured and you’re gonna behave. Me and Steve are in charge, right Steve?”

“In charge is a bit of a strong term. I mean, have you met Tony?”

Happy came out carrying a small stack of clean washcloths. “Yeah I have. And lemme tell you, in or out ain’t just about doorways. You gotta put your foot down with this guy.”

Tony quietly rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. He heaved a dramatic sigh.

“As long as I get to be fussy and demanding I guess you guys can be ‘in charge’.”

Steve hesitantly moved a little closer, but didn’t snuggle up due to Tony’s right arm. “I guess we could work with that.”

Happy nodded. “Ok, well, I’m just down the hall. Dinner’s at six thirty. You kids have fun.” He strode out of the room like a grand duchess and closed the door.

Steve chuckled. “I doubt ‘having fun’ is one of the things we can do right now.”

Tony gave a mournful sigh. “We got three thousand channels, though.”

“Not the type of fun I meant, but okay.” Steve said with a smirk.

He knew he shouldn’t have brought up sex while Tony was recovering, but the sex they had was the best Steve had ever experienced (and the most in one night). He wasn’t embarrassed to say that he had thought about it quite a bit when Tony was asleep and Steve had time to think. Plus Tony actually seemed to enjoy his vagina and dick, which was a blessing.

“Ok. Big relationship moment. What do you wanna watch?” Tony flipped on the screen and began poking around the menu.

“Anything good on the History Channel?”

Tony made a face. “As a general rule, no.”

“Some of the documentaries are actually interesting. You might want to try it sometime.”

“Not when I already am having trouble staying awake. You trying to kill me or something?”

“A bit of extra education won’t kill you. I learned a few interesting things from those documentaries that I use if I run out of personal topics in conversation.”

“Well that would make them spoilers, so no. How about the nature channel? That’s educational. Plus there’s lions.”

“Just go on Netflix and pick something then.”

Tony pouted. “Well if you’re not gonna fight me about it what’s the point of TV anyway?”

“I don’t wanna fight you when you’re recovering from a car accident.”

“Yeah but I can barely move. I need the adrenaline rush. Come on. Tell me lions are stupid or something.” He smiled, only mostly kidding.

“James Bond is a crappy secret agent.” Steve said as a viewing of James Bond came on screen.

Tony nodded. “Agreed.” And made a pistol sound as he changed the channel again. “Ooh, barefoot contessa…”

“What is with the feet fetish thing? I don’t get it. And you’d be shocked how many times people have messaged me asking for pictures of my feet.”

Tony flipped past the cooking show and into a wasteland of infomercials. He kept flipping blind as he shot Steve a lascivious look.

“Can I see your feet?”

“You’ve seen me naked, isn’t that enough?”

“Oh, so that was the one time I’m gonna get to see you? Glad we took all night then.”

“For the record, I would gladly do that again now, but again, you’re recovering from a  _ car accident. _ ”

“I just wanna see your feet. Cuz you don’t show them to randos.”

Steve shrugged. “You’ll have to work for it.”

“But car accident.” Tony whined. He rested his head back and looked weak and persecuted.

“When we reach the two month mark of recovery and you’re doing well,  _ maybe _ , but you’ll have to not drive me up the wall for those two months.”

Tony laughed. “How likely do you think that is?”

“Slim to none. So I guess you’ll never know what my feet look like.”

“I think you wanna show me.”

“Not that I want to, I just don’t care. And taunting you is a small pleasure in life.”

Tony’s voice dropped to something more seductive and sincere, though his smile kept things light. “I think you would let me see all the way up to your-” He paused for a quick smoulder. “... _ ankle _ .”

Steve laughed. “What is this, the 1800s?”

“What do you want?” Tony looked Steve in the eye. It was a genuine offer. He felt well enough to fool around a little bit as long as it didn’t go too far, and he did feel like he could use a little endorphin rush after so many days in the hospital. Plus Steve really did have cute ankles.

Steve immediately blushed, and felt that question go all the way down to his crotch. “Are you… sure you could do anything while you’re like this?”

“Can I handle seeing your feet? Yeah, definitely. Anything proportional you want in return is probably ok. I can put on the pulse ox if you wanna monitor my heart rate just to be on the safe side.”

With a sigh, Steve reached down and took off his socks. He bent one knee and crossed the other leg over it. It was stupid, and this probably wasn’t a good idea, but Tony was offering, and he definitely was as good as his reputation suggested.

“You happy now?”

“Getting there. How about you?”

Steve shrugged. “Don’t think showing you my feet really does anything for me.”

“Well what would? I mean, I know our options are a little limited, but I think that makes it more interesting. You’re a creative type, right?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know what your limits are right now. I know what I  _ would _ want if you weren’t on bedrest, but I don’t know what you could do, or what I could do for you in return without hurting you.”

Tony lay back, relented, and reached across with his left hand. “Ok, ok. Here, gimme one of those.”

“Of my feet?”

“Yep.” He flipped the channel to some old movie and put the remote down between them.

Hesitantly, Steve shifted so that he could lay his foot down but snake it under the right arm cast without touching his ribs.

Tony lay back and watched the movie and idly, massaged Steve’s foot, starting just below the calf, slowly working out the tension in his ankle, and down towards his toes, moving slowly and firmly and cautious of any ticklish spots. 

Steve moaned from the different spots being worked out, but not in a sexual way. He hadn’t realized how stiff his feet were until now, and if Tony could do that with his left hand, who knew what he could do with both. In a somewhat courageous move, Steve shifted his foot so that the heel was right on Tony’s crotch, where he could feel Tony’s dick slowly filling.

“Seriously? You have a foot fetish?”

“I have a  _ you _ fetish. And I like the sounds you make. Pick on me for my little pleasures again and I’ll stop.”

“Well…” Steve pushed down onto Tony’s cock through his pants. “I can’t argue with that.”

“I did try jerking off in the hospital once. Gave me a screaming migraine. But I don’t mind getting a little excited. It just feels good. You don’t have to do anything fancy. I just would like to touch you a little while we lie here, you know?”

Steve’s heart rate picked up a bit, and started to think of what they could do with just touching. He did like a lot of the things Tony did to him last week, but they couldn’t really replicate everything. They just had to be really careful.

“Is it okay if I straddle your waist?”

Tony smirked. “You’ll miss the movie.”

“I think I gave up on it around the arch of my foot being rubbed.”

“And you think I’m the one with a fetish.” He shifted around a little to make a slightly better space between his side and his suspended arm. “I’d like the feel of you. Just go easy.” 

“I promise.”

Steve carefully climbed over and straddled Tony’s waist. He leaned down gently and kissed him just as gently, with chasteness and heat at different moments. He made sure to keep himself elevated with his arms on either side of Tony’s head and resisted the urge to grind down onto Tony’s bulge.

Tony slid an experimental hand down Steve’s back and teased his fingertips under the waist of his pants. He relished the feel of the soft skin over Steve’s lower spine, and traced lazy little circles as they kissed

“I mean…” He murmured. “there’s nothing about this situation that says you can’t come, of course.”

“Taking it in steps.” Steve said as he took off his shirt. He decided to keep the binder on just to tease Tony and guided Tony’s hand down to his ass under his pants. “Don’t want to push you.”

Tony nodded. “Yeah,” He slid his fingers down to browse around the cleft of Steve’s ass. “This is about as fast as I should go, I think. My heart rate’s up but my head feels fine.”

Steve shivered from Tony’s fingers. “Let’s keep it that way.”

He leaned down and kissed Tony again, gasping and sighing from Tony moving his fingers around his rear. This somehow felt more intimate than before, maybe because they had more limits to be careful of.

Tony let the pad of his index finger settle against Steve’s hole, and rubbed the surface in gentle circles. “I don’t think I can get my hand down the front of your pants. I’d like to watch you do it, though. When you’re ready.”

“With… or without pants?” Steve stuttered out.

Tony thought for a minute as he traced Steve’s collar bones with his gaze. “With, I think. Seems… dirtier.”

With a slight nod, Steve sat up on Tony’s waist and undid the button and zip on his pants. He almost felt nervous to do this, but it was also incredibly hot, so he slid his hand into his pants and started out teasing his own cock. He bit back a moan as he was already soaked and hard, and he started to stroke himself. He let out tiny gasps and moans as he rubbed himself and held onto Tony’s right leg with his other hand. He could even see his nipples start to poke through the binder.

Tony watched transfixed as Steve slowly let go and slid into the act. He pressed his finger against Steve’s ass to stimulate him a little bit at a time, also moving him very slightly up and back to brush against his erection. It sent little shivers up him that came out as little moans and hushed words.

“Oh god, you look so good. This is for how bad I wish we could be fucking each other right now, so do me proud.”

He didn’t need anymore invitation than that. Steve slid his hand further down and started to finger himself. He was soaking wet and tight and his fingers felt so good. He would kill to have Tony’s fingers in him, but he reminded himself about his limits. He started to moan in earnest as he slid his fingers in and out and felt Tony continue to play with his other hole. It was incredible how those things worked together.

“I dream about sucking you off.” Tony whispered, awed by the look on Steve’s face and attending to every twitch of his lips vicariously. “It was torture in the hospital with you right there and I couldn’t even finger you, couldn’t suck your cock, or taste you, you’re saving my life right now, you sexy bastard.”

“Do you -mmm- want to touch it?” Steve moaned.

Tony shook his head. “I do, but I shouldn’t. I want to watch.”

With Steve’s other hand, he undid the side clasps on his binder and took it off. He gasped from both the pleasure and the release of his chest and moved Tony’s hand onto one of his breasts.

“Is this okay?”

Tony nodded and leaned forward to kiss Steve as he fondled him. Steve continued to switch between stroking his cock and fingering himself, and he so desperately wanted to do both, but he had to keep his balance. He felt himself get even tighter, and started moving his hips onto his hand.

“Couldn’t stop think-ING about you.” Steve gasped. “About your cock, you fucking me, s’good.”

Tony nodded between Steve’s breasts and murmured, “Gonna fuck you so hard once I’m all better.”

Steve almost squealed with Tony bit down on one of his nipples, and started rubbing his g-spot inside him as much as he could. He was so close, but not quite there.

“Talk to me.” Steve kept moving his hips, unaware that he was grinding into Tony’s cock. “ _ Please _ .”

Tony pulled Steve a little closer and nibbled his neck as he whispered in his ear. “Gonna get you a strap-on, once I’m all better. Go back and forth fucking you all night. Gonna come in you until it hurts to come because you’re so fucking tight.”

Steve started chanting ‘fuck’ over and over and felt himself crash over the edge hard. He keened as he came onto his hand and caught himself from falling onto Tony. He jerked as he came and gasped Tony’s name like a mantra. He could feel himself leak through his underwear and create a wet spot on his crotch, but he didn’t care. He just felt so incredibly good in that moment.

Tony steadied Steve until he stopped shaking, and enjoyed the heavy thrusts against his rock-hard cock. As Steve came down he kissed him with slowly-tapering ardor and constant tenderness. 

“Jesus…” Steve whispered as he took his hand out of his soiled pants.

Tony caught Steve’s wrist and brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean. When he could talk again he asked,

“Is what I said ok? About getting you a strap on? I never asked if that was something you’re into. I am though. Into it.”

Steve chuckled. “The only reason I don’t have one is because I couldn’t afford one. Because the right type is expensive if you want to feel good.”

Tony smiled. “Well we’ll have to go shopping. Or I could get you a card, if you’d rather choose on your own. I’m not bent on having an opinion about your cock or anything.”

“I have the links bookmarked. I’ll send them to you when you feel better.” Steve said as he climbed back to the other side of the bed.

Tony picked up the remote and flipped to the History channel, then put the remote down and gave the head of his erection a firm squeeze to try and discourage it. “I guess this channel is good for something after all.”

***

Nat rushed into Stark Tower. She’d been keeping track of the investigation, and the new theory the detectives came up with was just too perfect to not fit. She waved to the receptionist, went to the elevator, and walked into Tony’s apartment. She could smell shampoo and soap, so she knew Tony was in the bathroom having a bath. Instead of just barging into the bathroom, she stayed on the other side of the doorway just looking at the bed.

“Tony?”

“Hey Natasha!” Tony called. “You can come on in. This whole process is so elaborate even I can’t see any of my fun parts.”

Steve chuckled. “He’s not kidding Nat, but whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Natasha walked in and saw that Tony was in the master bath tub with his left leg on the edge of the tub, his right arm on some towels, and Steve was scrubbing Tony’s back with a loofa. To say Steve was a dedicated boyfriend seemed to be an understatement.

“How are you feeling?” She asked.

Tony gave as much of a shrug as he could. “The doctor says I can start having orgasms again any day now.”

“Tony, seriously!?” Steve exclaimed. “That’s my sister you’re talking to.”

“I’ve seen pretty much everything when it comes to him, so I’m not bothered.” Nat said, then got out her StarkPad and set up the mini-projection against the adjacent wall of the bathroom. “The investigators are still working on finding the driver of the SUV. There’s something wrong with the street cameras, probably were hacked into, but there’s a new theory that I’m afraid fits this all too well.”

Tony let Steve help him to hoist himself up onto the edge of the tub and begin drying off. “Show me.”

She tapped a few times, and a video of the accident appeared. It showed Tony’s car get hit, but then it jumped to the ambulances getting there, and the driver of the SUV was clearly gone. Steve just stared at it in confusion.

“Someone removed the footage of the driver leaving?”

Tony frowned. “That’s really unsubtly unsubtle. Someone was either way more worried about being identified than about making this seem like an obvious erasure… or the obviousness is part of the point.”

“Well… the new theory is that this was a hit, and with the footage being tampered with, the car not being registered, and the driver disappearing, it seems to point that way.”

Tony sighed. “Smart. It’s a good threat. And it’s not like being an obvious attempt on my life narrows down the suspects from your average hit and run.”

Steve held Tony’s left hand. “Are there any leads on who the driver was?”

“Not yet. They’ve tried looking at cameras of surrounding buildings, but a whole block’s security cameras were also hacked, which means they don’t know where he ended up going. Whoever this was is smart enough to not disable cameras to leave an obvious path to where he went.”

Tony nodded. “Whoever it was is probably nobody. And long gone. People with the kind of pull to get all that done don’t drive their own cars.”

“So there’s no way we can track them down?” Steve asked, nerves clear in his voice.

Tony shrugged. “I assume the police already tried?”

“No one looked suspicious or injured on the cameras outside of the block, so they don’t have a lead. Even the GPS was disabled inside the SUV before the collision.”

“I could probably go through the area cameras one by one and see if any of them have a backup that was missed. That’s a lot of work. Someone might have gotten sloppy.” Tony didn’t relish the idea of all that hacking grunt work, but it wasn’t like he was busy exactly.

“You only  _ just _ got cleared to do computer work, don’t push your luck.” Steve said as he dried Tony’s hair.

Tony smirked as an idea hit him. “I wasn’t going to. I was gonna walk you through it as I do the first one, then you can do the others. It’ll be fun. And you can learn to commit felonies.”

Steve paused. “But Nat has more experience than I do.”

“Yeah but you’ve got a sharper penchant for justice.”

“I’ll be sure to be on standby if something goes wrong.” She said. “We don’t need a bug to worm it’s way into the Stark Industries mainframe.”

Tony nodded. “That would be a clever trap. I think we can do it from a sandboxed device, though. Cameras aren’t that complicated.”

“What does ‘sandboxed’ mean?” Steve asked.

“Self contained. Not hooked up to anything else. If it gets a bug we just wipe it hard and start over. Or analyze the bug to see if we can figure out who made it.”

“So like a smartphone?”

“I’d probably go with a laptop.”

“Just let me know when you get started. All I’ve really been doing is PR damage control, which has been a bit worse than usual due to a certain someone assaulting a photographer.” She gave Steve the stink eye.

Tony boggled. “I - I really don’t know what to do when it’s not me you’re mad at.”

“I’m still angry at you for cutting up Stane’s face, so you’re not left out.”

“Oh good. Did you want to get some sympathy photos of my fragile condition?”

“Seems colder if it comes from the PA. Posting it somewhere like your Twitters seems more personal and like you actually care.”

Tony nodded. “Ok. Probably send that out around primetime.”

“Wait… seriously?” Steve asked. “Sympathy photos?”

Tony smirked. “Multitasking photos. Keep my hand in the game, reassure the people that don’t hate me… and let whoever did this know how much they missed by. There’s really never a downside to taunting your enemies.”

“But what if they try again? And the photos just egg them on?”

“My not annoying them is not gonna make them not try again. Why do you think people try to kill people, Steve?”

“It’s just… I don’t  _ want _ them to try again. It was terrifying enough when I felt that jolt the same time you got hit, and reading about people who’s Soulmates’ had died… it just leaves you empty forever.”

Tony scooted closer to Steve as gracefully as he could and bumped his forehead against his. “I’m not gonna die on you, babe. I’m too mean.”

Steve chuckled. “I would have said stubborn, but that works too.”

“Well, I didn’t want it to be a contest. I’d lose. But yeah, if it was a hit, they’re gonna try again no matter what I do. It makes sense to see if we can provoke a reaction, notice any conspicuous non-reactions, maybe narrow things down into the low dozens.”

“But just to be safe,” Nat cut in. “I made sure Happy put on more security detail around the building. And when either of you leave, you’ll be escorted by security personnel. We don’t want to take any chances with this.”

Tony nodded. “Thanks, Nat. I’ll let you know as soon as we find anything.”

“Just part of my job.” As she left, she ruffled Steve’s hair. “Also, I’m pretty sure your bed isn’t safe from Clint and Bucky since you’ve been gone.”

Steve groaned dramatically. “Tell them to buy me a new one and burn the old one then!”

“Sex on a fold out bed isn’t comfortable.” She simply said from the bedroom.

“And tell them pics or it didn’t happen!” Tony chimed in. He answered Steve’s look with a blithe wink. “What? They’re hot and I’m a perv.”

“You’re basically asking for pics of my brother, Tony. I don’t want to see that.”

“But you’re so cute when you’re appalled.”

Steve got up and pulled the plug on the tub. “I’ve already walked in on him five different times with four different guys, I’m fine with not seeing it in photograph form with  _ Clint _ .”

Tony sighed and scooted into position to transfer to his chair. “Making you love me is a sign that the universe has a sense of humor. Or that you were a mass murderer in a past life.”

Steve smiled as he rolled up the wheelchair. “If I was, I’d hope I was about a foot taller and built like a god. Being a sickly small mass murderer is not sexy.” He got Tony’s left arm around his shoulders and hauled him into the chair.

“I bet you could pull it off.”

“Says the guy who’s been on Playgirl magazine how many times?”

“Only two. It would have been three but they went out of business.”

Steve pushed Tony into the bedroom and helped him onto the bed. “People keep sending me photos of those editions on my Twitter.” And his face fell a bit as he got clothes out. “They’ve been saying a lot of things, actually.”

Tony winced. “Gross, I was so young then.”

Steve shrugged as he helped Tony get his shirt on. “You were cute in a popular kid in high school way, but you didn’t even go through that experience.”

“Yeah. I’m told it’s not exactly like a John Hughes movie, but I choose to assume that it is.”

Steve stopped mid-pulling up Tony’s underwear. He couldn’t stand all the misgendering going on online. He had no idea how someone got a hold of his Junior class photo, but it was spreading like wildfire, and the names came even more strongly than before. He finished up with Tony’s underwear and helped him into pajama pants.

“You didn’t miss much. When I was there, there wasn’t anything interesting apart from gossip and dances. Even then, I was more interested in my political and art classes.”

Tony smiled fondly. “Nerd.”

Steve frowned. “Not exactly the term used to describe me back then. More like… dyke or whatever.”

“Because kids are so kind.”

Steve sat down on the edge of the bed. “Apparently some of them didn’t let it go.” He took a deep breath. “Some old classmates posted my Junior year photo online, and it’s spreading like crazy.”

Tony’s expression darkened. “When did this happen?”

“A week ago, but you were having trouble with physiotherapy, so I didn’t tell you.”

“Did you tell Natasha?”

“Yeah, and Bucky, but they couldn’t do anything about it. It’d been shared too many times to stop it.”

Tony nodded soberly and pushed himself against the raised head of the bed. “You sound like you’re resigned to being out about this. Are you ok?”

Steve shrugged. “It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

Tony reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out his selfie stick. He held his phone out, stuck out his tongue, and took a picture of himself.

“Come here, get in close and hold this.”

Steve got on his knees next to the side of the bed and held the selfie stick in place.

“No, no, come up here. Get up here with me. We’re taking a picture.”

“Okay.” Steve squeezed into the tiny space on Tony’s left side, but made sure to keep away from Tony’s ribs. He did, however, rest his head on Tony’s shoulder. “This good?”

“Yeah. You look great. Smile real cute, we’re gonna tweet this one just for the haters.”

That alone made Steve smile and they took the photo. Steve edited it how Tony told him to and honestly… they were a really cute couple on camera.

“Ok. Here. Gimme.”

Steve handed the phone over.

Tony typed with one thumb, narrating as he went. “Soooo, first the one of me, captioned with just ‘Miss me?’, because my fans definitely did, and whoever tried to kill me knows they did.”

“Can we not talk about the fact that someone tried to kill you?”

Tony nodded absent mindedly, still typing. “Sure. Sorry. Ok, now you and me.” He grinned as the photo came up. “Good god, you’re too cute. Ok. This is my boyfriend Steve. He’s an artist. And he’s perfect. And he’s my Soulmate. And I love him. Also he’s trans. The bigots can die mad about it.” He looked at Steve and turned the screen to him for approval. “Ok?”

Steve smiled. “Can you send it to me after you post it?”

“Sure thing.”

***

Tony was to stay on bedrest and physiotherapy for three months. Steve stayed by his side and helped him the entire time, and Tony taught him the basics of hacking in between Steve’s video classes. They did end up finding the footage, and found out who the assassin was, but he was a high level professional with no traces to his client. So the investigation continued.

Steve had negotiated staying one more week, even though Tony was clear of needing assistance. It almost felt like leaving forever because he had to move out. He enjoyed staying in Tony’s apartment, being able to wake up and find Tony next to him, it was something he treasured deeply. On the day he had to leave, Steve packed up his bags with Tony’s help. No heavy lifting, of course, and yet he managed.

Tony had taken charge of re-folding all of Steve’s clothes for optimal fit into his bag, but was doing a sub-optimal job of it, efficiency-wise. He’d tried, throughout their cohabitation, to be less self-absorbed and more present, and Steve made that a lot easier, but the prospect of letting him move out again seemed to bring all his old mental habits back to the surface. He re-folded a polo shirt a third time in an attempt to get the collar just right. 

“So, maybe don’t go.”

Steve paused putting his sketchbooks in his book bag. “What?”

“Sorry, just working the problem in my head and thinking out loud. I mean, I don’t want you to go, so maybe don’t go. Maybe stay.”

Steve smiled sadly and sighed. “I want that too… but I can’t. I’m still on the lease for my apartment, so I need to stay there.”

Tony bit his tongue on starting another fight about money. He’d gotten ok with the idea that he couldn’t presume to understand Steve’s ethics around interpersonal money bullshit any more than he wanted Steve to think he understood the mechanics of fame. But the impulse to suggest buying out Steve’s lease was still so strong it kept him from thinking of anything else to say. He just sighed heavily and pulled out the equally-unfair full-puppy-eyes.

Steve rolled his eyes. Tony had decided that looking like a kicked puppy was a good way to manipulate the situation. It worked all of two times, but Steve had become pretty immune to it. Not to mention he picked up on Tony’s thought process.

“No, you’re not paying the full lease. I get that it seems easy to you, I just would feel dishonest if I let you do that.”

Tony groaned. “Jesus Christ, I get it. If you’re not going to give me credit for not starting that fight what’s the point of not starting it?”

He put the last shirt away and started balling up socks. Steve left the rest of his books aside, and brought Tony into a gentle hug.

“I do give you credit. I know how hard you’ve been trying these last three months, and I really appreciate it. I also know that my landlord is an asshole and would start referring to me as a Sugar Baby if you bought out the lease, and start trying to cause problems so you pay more. I don’t want that, and I know you don’t want that. So please don’t take this as me just brushing options aside or not thinking that you’re trying, because I know you are.”

Tony harrumphed and just hugged Steve back. He kissed his hair and mumbled. “Maybe I’ll become friends with Barnes after all. Buy him a building for a wedding present. No one’s allowed to complain about wedding presents.”

“Last time I checked, him and Clint don’t want to get married because they feel being Soulmates is enough. Nice try, though.”

Tony sighed. “You’ve gotten too used to me being all helpless. I have not yet begun to be a crafty sneak in getting my way.”

“And I know how to hack now, so I’d be able to watch if you did something. Not to mention Natasha has split loyalties.”

“I doubt Natasha would fight me on giving her brother some security.”

Steve shrugged. “Fair point.” He looked up into Tony’s eyes. “I’ll talk to Bucky about it, but the lease ends in July, so we’ve got seven months still.”

Tony sighed. “Look, you know I’m fine to let you do whatever you want. Eventually. Ok, you know I get fine with letting you do whatever you want. And I know you don’t want me going overboard on stuff just to make your life easier. And I respect that. I just… if it’s something else, just tell me, ok? Don’t use it as an excuse instead of just saying how you feel. If you’re not ready, that’s cool. I’d just rather you say that instead of pretending it’s about abstract honor money crap.”

Steve’s face fell. In truth, it was partially being scared shitless of what it meant if he moved in. It wasn’t something you just jumped into, even if you were Soulmates. It took months for Bucky to agree to find an apartment before he started his business, and Steve and Tony had only been dating five months.

“I know that it’s been easy with us here together. I really enjoyed being able to see you every day, and not having to leave, but I don’t think it’s been long enough for us to move in together.”

Tony nodded, bravely crestfallen. “Ok. I appreciate that. Tell you what though.” He picked two shirts and two pairs of jeans out of Steve’s suitcase and put them back in the dresser, along with socks and underpants. “Jarvis knows you’re allowed in the apartment anytime, so I can’t exactly give you a key. But just… lemme keep these here for you. This is your room if you ever wanna stay over, or wanna give Comedy and Tragedy some private time in the love garrett, or, I dunno, if you get stuck in midtown and can’t get back to Brooklyn before you turn into a pumpkin. Deal?”

Steve smiled. “Deal.”

Tony felt himself grinning like a fool and didn’t care. He pulled Steve close and gave him a slow soft kiss. 

Steve kissed back, and leaned into Tony. He was about to turn the kiss into something more heated, but then Jarvis interrupted.

_ “Sir, Mr. Hogan has arrived to pick up Steve and take him back to his apartment.” _

Tony let his head drop back. Capriciously inconveniencing other people for the sake of a quickie was another argument he had learned better than to start with his obnoxiously, adorably honorable Soulmate.

“Thanks, Jarvis.” 

“Tell him we’ll be down in ten minutes.” Steve said with a smirk.

Tony grinned, delighted and scandalized, and proceeded to remove Steve’s clothes far more efficiently than he’d been folding them.

They ended up on the bed, naked and hot, and Steve spread his legs once Tony was fully unclothed. Steve was already soaked between his thighs and hard, as he’d wanted this again for what felt like an eternity.

“Three months without sex, let’s see if you’ve still go it.” He said with a smug look.

Tony knelt up between Steve’s thighs, took him by one ankle, and brought his foot up to rest on his shoulder as he grabbed him by the hips. “Oh I’ve got it. And you’re gonna get it.” He grinned and got Steve’s other ankle up, then slid a pillow under his ass to cock his hips up where Tony could see everything.

Steve felt Tony start to push in, and it was even better than he remembered. He groaned loudly as Tony’s cock slid into him, and his legs shook. The heat, the weight, the feeling of being full, it was intoxicating. When Tony bottomed out, Steve reached behind himself and held onto the headboard.

“You said you’d fuck me hard.” He breathed. “Gonna keep that promise?”

Tony licked a little drop of anticipatory slaver from the corner of his mouth as he got Steve’s wet heat settled around him and took a moment just to enjoy being alive. “As often as you let me.” He pulled back slow, though, and took his time rubbing back in, shifting and pulling. “Gotta warm up though. Been on the bench a while.”

Steve moaned, he felt so good even though it was slow. “So far - fuck - good.”

He let one of his hands roam down his body to his chest, where he cupped one of his breasts and squeezed. Before Tony, he’d never realized how sensitive his chest was, and how it made everything feel so much better.

Tony kept moving slow, and stroked the trail down Steve’s belly to his crotch. He slid his thumb alongside Steve’s hard flesh and slowly built to stroking him as he pushed in with his own cock.

Steve gasped, and closed his eyes to try and not come so quickly. Having Tony inside him and rubbing him at the same time was almost too much. He clenched his leg muscles unintentionally, and held tightly to the headboard.

Tony started to fuck him a little faster but kept his touch slow. “You know how bad I wanted this, smelling you every night, listening to you breathe…”

“Ah - a lot.”

“And you only gave me ten minutes to work with, so I’m gonna have to fit a lot of fucking into that time, don’t you think?” He squeezed Steve’s hip to steady him as he rammed in hard a couple times for emphasis. 

Steve came on the second hard thrust, and his inner walls tightened even more around Tony’s cock.

“As m-UCH as you want.”

Tony sucked air through his teeth and shook his head. “Not as much as I want. Not tonight. You’ll have to come back for that. Oh god, you feel so good…” He built up to a hard steady rhythm, trying to derive as much pleasure as he could stand without forcing himself over the edge. 

Steve managed to move his legs from Tony’s shoulders to around his waist, and pulled him close. “Hard as you can.” He whispered.

Tony gritted his teeth and redoubled his efforts. “Oh, god, yeah…” The bed shook and pounded against the wall like an infantry march.

Steve had to physically stop himself from hitting his head on the headboard and that was the only thought he was capable of having. If this was how Tony felt when he fucked hard, he would have asked for that the first time they had sex. He moaned with every punishing thrust and his breasts bounced with the movements.

“Tony… god - FUCK!” He almost screamed.

“Do it,” Tony said between gasps. “Come on me again. You promised you could do this all day.”

“Kiss me.”

Tony practically fell forward and caught himself with both hands at Steve’s sides, barely slowing as he took Steve’s mouth with his.

Steve moaned into the kiss as Tony rammed into him, and slid an arm down between their bodies. He started to stroke his own cock as fast as he could and let his tongue slide against Tony’s in their heated kiss. Before long, Steve’s leg’s clamped onto Tony’s hips with an iron grip and he gasped out the word ‘fuck’ as he came again.

Tony had been hanging on by a thread at that point, but he barely bobbled his rhythm as he let go, unloading inside Steve in heavy repeating spasms that he thrust with in time. Finally he groaned and shuddered down into Steve’s arms, little sparks of exertion popped behind his eyes.

Steve caught his breath for a moment as he ran his fingers through Tony’s hair. He just enjoyed the sensation of hot release inside of him, Tony’s body over him, it all felt perfect.

“I’ll… be feeling that… for a while.”

Tony nodded, breathless. “I’m just glad I’m not the one that has to walk anytime soon.” He kissed Steve again and waited a long time before sliding back and off to one side. He flopped down and asked with a grin. “So any idea how hard you’re gonna fuck me once we get you the right accoutrements? Threats? Promises?”

Steve chuckled. “Won’t know until we get there.”

Tony gave a wistful sigh and stroked Steve’s jaw, down over his breast, and to his hip. “You could stay. I could send Happy on the sixth weirdest errand of his employment.”

“Not right now. Because I do actually have to go home.”

“Ok. I might just lie here until you get back.”

Steve forced his body to turn facing Tony and gave him a soft kiss. “At least you’ll have some jerk off material for a while.”

He immediately went to the bathroom to clean up a bit, and achingly got his clothes back on.

Tony felt himself begin to drift a little after the exertion and release. “You got that right. So if you’re gonna be that guy who leaves right after, I get to be that guy who falls asleep right after right?”

Steve left the bathroom and got his bags together. “Any other day I’d stay, but this one time, yes.”

“Ok, cool, great. I love you. I’m just, gonna have a little nap.” If Steve said anything after that he didn’t hear it.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to follow me on twitter and Instagram. Both are under the user @roryqpotter


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas is here, and Steve gets to meet Tony's platonic Soulmates. But it seems that someone is out to get them, and they'll need help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: kidnapping and Wade being an annoying jerk.

Steve was nervous. It was Christmas Eve, and he and Bucky were having a small get-together to celebrate the holidays. Usually Steve went with Bucky to the Barnes’ family residence since they were that close, but Nat had kind of insisted on spending Christmas Day with Tony since they both didn’t have blood relatives anymore. So here he was, putting up decorations in his studio apartment as Bucky cooked parts dinner, they had a fake tree with their stored decorations on it, the dining table had a cloth with a centerpiece, and typical Christmas music playing on the radio.

He placed his present for Sam under the tree, and let out a breath. “Does it all look okay?”

Bucky slid the tray of stuffing into the oven, kicked it closed, and gave the arrangement a serious look. “It’s very… Christmas. For its size.”

“I meant is it good enough for meeting Tony’s Platonic Soulmates?”

Bucky crossed and put his hand on Steve’s shoulder as if to steady him. “It’s good enough. I promise.”

“Well, if the decorations fail, Sam’s mom is still sending over her famous white chocolate cookies, so that might save us… if Clint doesn’t eat them all.”

“It’ll be fine.” He gave Steve a teasing smile. “Not like they’re coming to judge the decorations, anyway. It’s all about judging you! So cheer up. Nothing to worry about.”

Steve rolled his eyes and gave a gentle shove. “Thanks for the support.”

There was a knock on the door, and Steve pushed Bucky to answer it for him.

Bucky put on his best people-face, but slouched into a more accustomed smile as Nat pushed past him with an armload of stuff. “Oh, it’s just you.” He helped her get the bags to the table and started digging through for the odds and ends he’d asked her to remember for him. “Merry Christmas, sis.”

She smiled up at Bucky. “Merry Christmas, Buck.” Then she got out a bottle of what she knew was Tony’s favorite liquor to ease nerves. “Be a dear and put this in the fridge, would you?” She asked with a charming smile.

He took the bottle, read the label, and whistled low. “For me? You shouldn’t have.”

“Ha, no. Your actual gift is at mom and dad’s place, where they have it under lock and key.”

“Wow.” Steve commented. “Must be something big if it’s at their place.”

“In more ways than one.”

Bucky felt a warm glow in his gut that was more than holiday cheer, and opened the door before Clint could knock. He tugged Clint inside and gave his chilled cheek a quick kiss.

“Hey babe. You bring the pie?”

Clint presented a wrapped dish with a flourish. “I did. I’m the best, aren’t I? Hey Steve, hey ‘Tasha. Merry Christmas.”

The two returned the sentiment, and Steve put the pie in the fridge. Clint hung his coat up and looked at the tree.

“Hey, great decorating job this year. Tony’s fancy friends are definitely not going to judge the shit out of you.” 

Steve groaned and lightly banged his head against the fridge. “Not helping!”

Clint crossed and patted Steve on the back to coax him into a friendly hug. “Hey, man, I’m just teasing. There’s no way they’re not gonna love you.”

“I hope so. Apparently I got some points with Rhodey for kicking that photographer in the nuts.” Which Steve was extremely thankful for.

Bucky heard a heavy step on the stairs and got to the door just as Thor gave it a hearty rap. It took him a moment before he could invite Thor inside, stunned as he was by the big man’s appearance. He had on a red santa hat, and his full beard and moustache were spangled with red and green glitter gel. He held up a small tupperware pitcher in one hand and a six pack of a kind of beer Bucky didn’t recognize in the other and announced,

“I brought glogg!”

“Do you know what that is?” Nat whispered to Steve, who in turn gave a shrug.

Thor seemed to take up half the remaining room all on his own just by sheer emotional radiance, and Bucky just accepted his gifts and stepped out of the way bemusedly. Thor crossed to Steve and opened his arms invitingly.

“Good to see you!”

Steve hugged him, but didn’t expect to be picked up in an embrace. He had no idea why Thor loved Christmas so much, and his jovial energy was already making him feel better. Once he was put down, he gestured to Nat.

“Nat, this is Thor, Thor, this is Natasha.”

Thor turned his radiant smile to Natasha and caught his breath performatively as if he’d never seen anything lovelier. Nat just smiled and held out her hand.

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine! You’re Bucky’s sister?” He scooped her fingers swiftly and bowed over them in a gallant air-kiss. 

Nat simply chuckled, and Clint gave a wolf-whistle.

“So what smells so good?” Thor asked, turning to the room in general. 

“Just about everything,” Bucky replied. “Turkey, stuffing, potatoes-”

“Pie.” Clint interrupted.

“Oh wait, was there another ego waiting to be stroked?” Steve asked.

Clint grinned at him. “Nah, I never wait.”

***

Tony wished he hadn’t insisted on driving. He was going to be a nervous wreck either way, but he didn’t like to seem jittery behind the wheel. At least the traffic wasn’t too bad for Christmas Eve, and they were only running a few minutes behind what he’d settled on in his head as ideal.

“You’re overthinking again.” Rhodey blandly said without looking up from his phone.

“Yeah, I’m aware.” Tony sighed. “Rest assured I’m overthinking the overthinking, too.”

“That’s even worse.”

“You should try it from in here. It’s like a circus except all the monkeys are drunk and heavily armed.”

Pepper reached up from the back seat and placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder.

“It’ll be fine. You’ll do great.”

“Yeah, think of it like one of those parties you get invited to with all the big shots in LA.” Rhodey said.

Tony smiled. “Sure, except this I care about.” He took a deep breath and switched to slightly-kidding pleading. “You guys have to like him. I forbid you to not like him. The roommate you can not-like but you have to love Steve. That’s a rule. I’m making a rule.”

“Tony, you’ve been talking our ears off about him since you met him in person. He seems like a person we’ll get along with.” Pepper assured.

Tony nodded. “Plus I made a rule.”

“Of course.”

Tony pulled up to the garage, parked in front, and opened the trunk to get out the stuff they’d brought. He knew Pepper had been right to veto the three hundred dollar bottle of wine, but he still wished he had it, just in case.

Steve could pick up Tony’s nerves more prevalently than before, which meant he was here. He excused himself from his conversation with Sam and went to the door to wait for the knock. 

Everything seemed better to Tony as soon as Steve opened the door. Sure, it was partly that he was backlit by a room full of people talking and drinking and having a good time, his natural element, but it was also impossible for him to look at that slightly lopsided smile and those clear boyish eyes and not feel like everything was going to be ok. The room reacted with a general cheer of welcome, and Tony stepped inside, gave Steve a hug, and stood off to one side with his arm around him to make introductions as Rhodey and Pepper got their coats off.

“Hey, everybody, if we haven’t met, I’m Tony, these avatars of unbridled charisma are my friends, James and Virginia. Do I smell glogg?”

They made the general round of introductions, everyone smiling and nodding at the right places.

Steve couldn’t believe how easily everyone was getting along. Pepper seemed really interested in Thor’s talk of Norwegian art, and Rhodey was talking to Sam about how their training was when they joined the military. And of course, Sam’s mom’s cookies were a hit, gone in thirty minutes. Steve eventually told everyone it was time for dinner and they all took a seat at the dining table. Steve made sure to sit next to Tony, Bucky sat next to Clint, Nat next to Bucky, and everyone else filled the other seats.

Bucky raised his glass. “So as the founder of the feast, I should make a toast. Here’s to new friends and old friends.”

Everyone waited a beat with their glasses up before Tony blurted, “Oh he’s done,” and everyone laughed and drank.

They passed around the food to different plates, and they all kept up conversation. As Nat and Pepper began to settle too comfortably into tag-teaming Tony’s foibles, Tony raised his glass and loudly changed the subject.

“So, I gotta know, how the heck does one become friends with the actual Santa Clause?” Tony asked. 

Both Thor and Steve laughed, and Steve answered, “Stopping a guy from stalking his girlfriend.”

“Wait, a stalker?” Rhodey asked.

“Stalker is a rather strong word.” Thor said. “More of… unwanted following.”

Nat and Pepper each made a knowing sound in their throats at the same time and traded a look.

“No, I’d say stalker is the right term since he’d been following her halfway across campus before I noticed.”

“Fair, but it was thanks to Steve that Jane wasn’t hurt.”

“The guy ended up being ten feet away from her, and Jane had noticed him and looked like she was about to sprint. So I grabbed the guy by his coat and told him to back off. I didn’t know Jane had a big bulky boyfriend already on his way, so I socked him in the face.”

Tony smirked. “And that stalker grew up to be… Harvey Weinstein.”

Steve and Bucky laughed. “Thankfully not.” Steve continued. “Before the guy could land a hit, Thor grabbed him and put him in a headlock.”

“He was only a few inches taller than Steve, so it wasn’t that much of a hardship to stop him. Campus security arrived and took the man away. It turned out that he had been doing the same to a few girls on campus, and he was put in jail for stalking and harassment charges.”

“And now every week or so,” Nat cut in. “I’ll get a call from Steve asking to be picked up because Thor had him drink his body weight at a party.”

Bucky chuckled. “Well, three beers is a lot.”

Steve threw a bit of roll at Bucky’s head. “I can drink more than that and you know it.”

Bucky dodged. “Yeah, but you can’t ever seem to weigh more.”

Thor laughed. “Size hardly matters. He is my brother in arms, and that is that.”

Clint looked up from his second plate. “Someone pass the rolls before you chuckleheads get any funnier.”

Pepper passed the rolls over to him. “Tony had gone through three different assistants before we met.”

Natasha shot Tony a smirk but demurred on commenting, probably assessing her comment to be unsuited to mixed company.

“And it wasn’t for the reason you’d think.” Pepper continued. “They couldn’t keep up with him or handle every part of his life like he really needed. Sometimes reminding him to sleep, others where he put the keys to his latest car. He actually called me once on my day off because he didn’t know where the milk was in the fridge.”

Sam spoke up. “Believe it or not, that’s exactly the reason I would think.”

Steve gave Tony a curious look. “Seriously? You needed her to navigate the fridge?”

Tony folded his arms. “In my defense, she had taken it upon herself to rearrange everything, and it never occurred to me to look for my food in alphabetical order.”

“Glad to see I don’t need to do that.” Natasha said smugly. “She raised you well.”

Tony nodded and raised his glass to Pepper. “Yeah I think I turned out ok.”

Pepper clinked his glass with a smile. “Someone had to put up with you for ten years, it just so happened that we’re Platonic Soulmates.”

Tony stretched. “Well, I’m completely stuffed, and all the bad things I know about Pepper that I might defend myself with I am too polite and graceful to bring up, so I’m going to adjourn myself to the couch and try to recover in time for dessert.”

“I’ll join you.” Steve said as he picked up their plates.

“Oh good,” Tony said as he gathered up the napkins and silverware. “I’ve got something I wanna give you.”

They took their plates and silverware to the kitchen, then settled on the couch while everyone talked behind them. Tony sighed.

“You and me should definitely volunteer to do the dishes after everyone’s done. Barnes looks wiped.”

“Usually it’s me and Nat who does dishes anyway.” Steve smiled. “Is dating me suddenly making you want to be domestic?”

Tony smiled. “I wouldn’t say ‘suddenly’. I’ve started to like doing dishes ever since that first night at the safehouse, remember?”

“I was in the shower while you did dishes. I was nervous as hell the entire time because it was so early on.”

Tony nodded, and dug into his jacket pocket. “It’s been a hell of a year. And as interesting as it started, I think it’s only gotten more interesting along the way.” He pulled a small velvet box out of his pocket and fidgeted with it. 

Steve looked at the box. “It has, and if any of your previous gifts are an indication, this is probably going to be a big gift.”

Tony shook his head. “Nah. Nah, I’m learning. And I’m less scared, being in love with you. Less-scared doesn’t happen to me very often, I usually have to resort to more-brave until I finally fall apart but you… you make me better. And that’s not your job, but you just do it. And I feel like I don’t have anything to prove, because all the proof I need I had before we even met.”

He opened the box on something small and shiny and held it out for Steve to see. It was a tiny die-cast car exactly like the one that had been destroyed in the accident, complete with Steve’s first design painted in painstaking detail. Steve gasped at the sight of it, and gently took the box.

Tony cleared his throat. “I just want you to always have something to remind you that I loved you before I ever met you. And that… stuff might go wrong, stuff might get wrecked sometimes, but nothing of ours is ever going to get broken that I won’t do everything in my power to fix.”

Steve didn’t say a word, he just sat the box to the side and hugged Tony tightly, resisting the urge to cry. He couldn’t think of a more perfect gift for Christmas… except for what he had in his dresser. He pulled back and gave Tony a kiss.

“I have something for you too.” He said with a smile.

Tony perked up and wiped his eyes, smiling like a kid. “Oh good. Gimme gimme.”

“Not exactly something you can just give someone.” He kissed Tony’s cheek then whispered. “When I come over tomorrow, I’ll be bringing what we picked out before finals.”

Tony’s heart fluttered in a way that was two parts hormones, one part excitement, and three parts wildly inappropriate sentiment.

“Are you serious? You wanna try out Buster?”

“Technically I wanted to since we ordered it, but exams were taking up most of my time. So tomorrow, it’ll be just the two of us, in your apartment, with that.”

Tony wriggled and bit his lower lip. He whimpered a little like a kid that had just been told he couldn’t open any presents until morning. They had finally ordered a packer and strap on base for Steve, but Steve had been so focused on final exams and final projects that they hadn’t had time to test it out.

“Are you sure? I mean, my car’s downstairs. The party seems fine without us…” 

Steve lightly shoved his shoulder. “Who do you think is the one that helps clean up every year? It’s definitely not Clint.”

Tony sighed and nodded. “Ok. Ok yeah. Don’t wanna get on the naughty list so close to midnight. At least not the wrong naughty list. So, yeah. Square deal. Looks like the meal’s breaking up, shall we adjourn to the sink?”

“You can be lookout for if Clint and Sam try to steal the leftovers.”

“I can do that and dry dishes. I wanna be extra special good this year.”

“Well, then you’d better help clean up.” Steve said as he got up.

“Aye aye, Captain.”

As instructed, Steve and Nat did dishes while Tony put them away in the correct places. He’d also caught Thor trying to steal leftovers a few times. Soon everyone was leaving and ready to sleep. At the door, Steve hugged his boyfriend and gave him a kiss.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Tony linked his hands behind Steve’s back. “Yes you will. I will try to get some kind of sleep before then.”

“You’d better.”

“Aye aye.” He winked and gave Steve a kiss on the nose before letting him go to take Rhodey and Pepper home.

Tony opened the passenger door for Pepper as Rhodey got in back. He tried to give Rhodey a significant, questioning look but Rhodey just returned and obstinate sort of weariness with Tony’s energy at the end of a long evening.

“So!” Tony launched the conversation as he pulled away from the garage. “You guys have fun? It was great, right?”

“It was.” Pepper agreed. “They’re really nice.”

“That Thor guy is probably the embodiment of Santa Claus, or at least a viking.” Rhodey joked.

“Yeah he was quite a feature. But enough about him. You love Steve, right?” He said it with that tone of self-mockery that let his best friends know that he was both desperately serious and aware that he was completely ridiculous.

“He’s a perfect gentleman.” Pepper smiled. “I think he’s good for you.”

Tony nodded energetically, still buzzing from his usual extrovert high. “He is! I feel great when I’m with him. Just all the time. Even when I’m laid-up with a broken everything.”

“The fact that he stayed with you for those three months is kind of amazing.” Rhodey said. “Sorry that I couldn’t help, by the way.”

Tony gave a noble waive of pardon. “It’s fine. Between Steve and Happy I was more than taken care of. And the flowers you sent were so nice, I forgot to say that. But yeah, he’s really stubborn. Which I think is becoming a good thing as we work out our boundaries.”

“Boundaries? You? Never.”

“Turns out I can be taught. Who knew?”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re willing to listen to him on that.” Pepper said. “How many times have you stopped yourself from doing something over the top with him? After the painting?”

Tony grinned. “A couple million, probably. My impulse to go over the top is very over the top. And I’m not gonna go into all the puns I’m thinking of right now out of respect for Rhodey’s boundary about my talking about butt stuff in his august presence.”

“The fact that you mentioned it already crosses that boundary.” Rhodey grimaced.

“Then I’ll be sure to turn myself over to Steve tomorrow for a refresher.”

The conversation hit a comfortable lull and Pepper turned the radio to Christmas carols until they reached Rhodey’s building and said goodnight. Pepper turned to Tony with a serious look.

“I know you’ve been panicking about everything with Steve.”

Tony nodded and pulled back out into traffic. “Yeah. I mean, I feel a lot less panicky lately and just more excited. I feel like we’re finally getting to cruising altitude, you know? And it’s great, but I don’t wanna get complacent. And I don’t wanna freak out from paranoia that I might be getting complacent and be smothering.”

“That’s how a lot of people feel when they’ve found the one. They don’t want to mess it up, but they don’t want to lose themselves because of it either. You’ve been doing just fine with him. Sure, you’ve had to reign yourself in a few times, but that’s just you learning how Steve likes to be treated rather than one of the hundreds of people you deal with in business meetings.” She gently held Tony’s free hand with a smile. “You’ve been doing great with this, and I’m sure you two will be fine.”

Tony smiled and gave her a squeeze. “Thanks Pepper.” He chewed his lower lip and added. “But you do really like him, right? And you like who I am when I’m around him? Because honestly, I feel like I’ve finally figured out who I want to be, but I also don’t wanna alienate you and Rhodey. You weren’t just being nice before? We’re good?”

“All I see when you’re with Steve is happiness, and I haven’t seen that in years, so of course I like him.”

Tony pulled over in front of Pepper’s building, set the brake, and leaned over to give her a hug around her slender shoulders.

“Thanks, Pep. You’re the best.”

“You’re welcome Tony. And Merry Christmas.” She got out of the car and went into her building.

Tony sighed contentedly and pulled away as soon as she was safely in. He knew he’d have to go right to bed when he got home, because any nervous dithering would turn into an all-nighter. He turned the music up and started singing along as loud as he could to blow off his nervous energy. It was a little weird belting “Silent Night” to the windshield, but weird felt good. Great, even.

He turned down the ramp into the tower garage, and noticed with a smile that there was no poor bastard that had been forced to work the cold security booth on Christmas Eve night, and the thought of everyone in the city at home with their families, while a little over the top, warmed him. It didn’t actually register with him as unsettling until he parked, got out of the car, and noticed that the red light on the security camera by the elevators was also taking the night off.

“Mr. Stark?” A man in a suit asked, looking like a security guard.

Tony’s hackles instantly went up. He went with his gut and played at being pretty wasted. He fumbled with his keys as if to lock his car while he tried to get his mini-taser into a usable position.

But before he could, a figure appeared behind him and stuffed a cloth onto his mouth and nose. Two other men came out of the shadows and grabbed his limbs as Tony fought back. As he started to lose consciousness, he registered that zip ties were being placed on his wrists and ankles and he was hauled into a van.

Then everything went black.

***

The last thing Steve expected on Christmas morning was a call from Jarvis himself. He had no idea that the AI could make calls in the first place, and that was concerning. So with a yawn and a stretch, Steve put on his glasses and picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

_ “Good morning, Steve. Happy Christmas. I am afraid I have some very upsetting news.” _

“What’s wrong? Is Tony okay?”

_ “Sir never reached his personal apartments last night. He appears to be missing.” _

Steve’s heart practically dropped  to his stomach. “Are… are you sure he didn’t just stop somewhere for the night? Like at Pepper’s?”

_ “He was confirmed by a traffic camera within three blocks of the building. The security cameras within and around the garage were disabled, as was I. His personal devices were found inside the garage, destroyed. There is no other sign of him since. Ms. Potts confirms that he dropped her off at a little past midnight and was headed home.” _

Steve had to take deep breaths in order to not go into an asthmatic episode. Panicking would not help, nor would an asthma attack.

_ “I am currently speaking to the police, Ms. Potts, Mr. Rhodes, and a private security firm.” _

“Does anyone else know?”

_ “Not at this time, aside from the persons responsible.” _

“Ok, um… thank you for telling me, I guess… just keep me in the loop, okay?”

_ “I shall, Steve. Please be brave. Sir is very resourceful, and they are telling me that when a celebrity of means goes missing, there is often a ransom demand. It is unlikely that he has been seriously hurt.” _ Jarvis finished crisply, sounding very convinced that he had been both efficient and comforting in accordance with protocol, and ended the call.

Steve dropped his phone onto the ground and curled in on himself. Tony was missing, he was fucking missing, and he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t feel anything through the bond, it was like Tony wasn’t even conscious. It gave him some comfort because it didn’t mean he was dead or injured, but it still terrified him.

Bucky shuffled out of the bathroom in his robe, sticky-eyed and unshaven. He stretched his shoulder and then noticed Steve. “Hey, pal. You ok? What’s wrong?”

“Tony’s missing.” Steve said through gasps.

Bucky went and sat by his feet. “Ok. It’s gonna be ok. Missing how?”

“Jarvis said that security cameras were disabled at his parking garage, his phone and other devices were found smashed, and he never went to his apartment.” Steve laid on his side in a fetal position, having lost his battle to not panic. “He’s fucking… he’s gone.”

Bucky nodded somberly, and gave Steve a couple firm pat’s on the hip. “Ok,” He heard his own voice dropping into his sergeant tone. “Ok, that’s pretty bad. But we’re not going to panic. You hear me? That’s not you.”

“How can I not panic, Buck?”

“By realizing that it’s not helping the person you love. Take a second, pull your shit together. For him. Wherever he is he can probably feel you, and he needs you to be strong, right?”

Steve tried to take some deep breaths, but he was still shaking and the breaths started coming out in choked gasps. He wanted to do  _ something _ , help the police, whatever he could, but he still was a civilian, he couldn’t-.

An idea popped into his head. He immediately picked up his phone and went to his facebook page.

“Dude, I know I said don’t panic, but I don’t think updating your facebook is the right call here.”

“I’m not updating anything.” He clicked on a specific profile in his friends list and started typing out a message. “I know someone who could help.”

He typed out,  _ ‘Wade, I know you have connections and have a certain skill set. I need your help.’  _ And sent it.

An anxious five minutes later Steve’s phone gave a breathy hoot and Wade’s response popped up.  _ ‘Merry Christmas to you, too, sunshine. Also new phone who dis? :P’ _

Steve rolled his eyes.  _ ‘Wade, this is serious. Tony is missing, and I need your help finding him.’ _

_ ‘Did you check the couch cushions?’ _

_ ‘His AI doesn’t even know where he is, is that good enough?’ _

_ ‘TONY STARK IS A ROBOT?!’ _

_ ‘No, he has an AI he built that practically knows where he is all the time. If his AI doesn’t know where he is, it means professionals took him. Will you help me or not?’ _

There was a very long pause. Finally text popped up.  _ ‘Where do you want to meet?’ _

Steve let out a relieved breath.  _ ‘My place, you can google Barnes Bodyworks and it’s the apartment above. When can you get here?’ _

_ ‘Depends. Am I packing?’ _

_ ‘If it’s required when you find out where he is.’ _ Steve didn’t send it, but turned to Bucky with a serious expression.

“If someone was able to go rescue Tony, would Natasha help? We both know what she can do.”

Bucky shook his head. “Ok, you really need to take a breath because you fucking well know the answer to that question.”

“Do you think she knows already?”

“Well yeah. I’m texting with her right now to check in that she isn’t already suiting up to go out looking on her own. She’s apparently the one that got Jarvis back online in the first place, so she’s half an hour ahead of us.”

Steve nodded, and finished typing out his message.  _ ‘Someone else will be helping you as well. Former assassin and terrifyingly skilled.’ _

_ ‘Is it the hottie from the web site? Bodyworks indeed! Merry Christmas to meeee!’  _ was followed by a string of heart and eggplant emojis.

_ ‘What? _ ’

Bucky’s promotional pic from the body shop’s website popped up with a big pink heart around his face. Steve rolled his eyes.

_ ‘That’s Bucky, not who I was talking about.’ _

_ ‘ :( ‘ _

_ ‘Actually his sister is who I was talking about. She’s former Red Room, one of the best.’ _

_ ‘ :D ‘ _

_ ‘How much will I need to pay you?’ _

_ ‘Do you have poptarts at your place?” _

_ ‘Um… I can check?’ _

_ ‘Cool. Be there in thirty.’ _

Steve let out a relieved breath and rubbed his eyes. “Tell Nat to be here in the next thirty minutes. Someone’s going to help her.”

Bucky was just opening his mouth as Nat knocked on the door. She didn’t even wait for someone to open it, just walked in using her spare key. She was already geared up in a black catsuit with guns strapped to her sides, batons on her back, and her hair up in a braid.

“Care to explain why you didn’t just let me do what I have to?” She asked.

“I got in contact with someone, he’s willing to help find Tony.” Steve answered. “Just a warning… he’s very sarcastic and at times you’ll want to punch him in the face.”

“I think I’ll be fine if I can restrain myself around Tony.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to follow me on twitter and Instagram. Both are under the user @roryqpotter


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony knows who's been out to get him now, and he's not surprised. Steve and Nat take some advice from Wade, and the X-Men save the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: torture, violence, and death.

Tony felt his chest clench up as he muddled his way back to consciousness. He tried to reach for Steve, to comfort him, but his arms were stuck down at his sides. He tried to roll over but he was bound and… sitting up. He groaned from the ache in his chest. This wasn’t ok. Steve needed him. Steve was scared of something and he’d gotten himself… tangled… or…

He shook his head and opened his eyes. It was dark and he was tied to a chair. As his memory seeped back into place, he realized what probably had Steve so worried. 

Fuck.

He wriggled against the seat and tried to reach his fingers to his pants pockets, but he could already feel that all his everyday carry toys were gone. His lips pressed back from his teeth in frustration and he threw himself sideways as hard as he could, only to discover that the chair was not only extremely sturdy but bolted to the floor. 

He squeezed his eyes closed, both to try and get them clear and to better scold himself into staying calm and working the problem rather than going off in the fit that was building up in his gut. He took a breath and thought of Steve. He brought all his thoughts down to that one still point and thought, felt, as hard as he could,  _ I’m ok, kiddo. I’m out here. I’m not gonna die on you. We’re gonna be ok. _

He couldn’t really tell if it got any further than the inside of his own skull, or whether the pain in his chest had really been Steve, but it did calm him down and clear his head.

“You’re a little shit, you know that?” A voice said in the darkness.

Tony summoned up the indomitably flippant little-shit tone he’d perfected by age twelve. The one he could pull out flawlessly whether he’d just been hit in the stomach or called a faggot to his face by a “fan”.

“Oh yeah, I’ve been told. Something to do with being better than you, old man.”

Out from the darkness, Obadiah Stane appeared, his face now scarring over from the incident at the Gala. He pulled up a wooden chair, turned it around, and sat on it in front of Tony.

“I never knew what Howard saw in you.” He said. “Brains, sure. If you were still focused on weaponry, you’d probably build something more powerful than our current nuclear arsenal. But ever since you were young, you were too idealistic. Never taking into account what your father and I worked so hard to build.”

“See, I can’t figure out the dynamic here. Are you the jilted older sibling or the evil stepmother in this little scene?”

Instead of a response, Stane stood up and punched Tony in the stomach. Tony let out a long “Hnnnnnnn” as the breath blew out of him. He hadn’t gotten his abdominals tightened in time, and something internal had definitely taken a good bit of the impact, sending a wave of dull pain all the way down to his knees and up to his throat. It pulsed and persisted a good twenty count before easing up. Tony sat up and smiled.

“Not the face, huh? We gonna make a ransom video?”

Another punch, but to the jaw. “You know, I never had a problem with who you were interested in. I couldn’t give two shits who you had in bed, but I figured, if I could get on Howard’s good side, he’d let me run the company instead of you.” A kick to the kneecap. “And I never felt guilty, because you always got on my nerves.”

Tony made a big deal about moving his jaw around and wincing in pain. He’d managed to close his teeth and go with the strike a little, and really wanted to keep Obie swinging at his head. Everything else was bound and braced and couldn’t give any ground. His head at least he could maneuver.

“It’s the full lush head of hair, right? Jealousy is a hell of a drug, Obie. Just say no.”

Stane grabbed him by his neck and cut off his airways. “I really thought I could get you out of the company without losing anything. The fact that I needed to resort to this is annoying. I’m already losing money from not being able to retire, and had to pay out 700 grand to do all of this.” He let go of Tony’s neck and backed up. “But I can’t complain about being able to beat the shit out of you for a while.”

Tony coughed and cleared his throat. He felt dizzy, and his head lolled to one side as he tried to look at Obadiah directly.

“No fair,” He grunted, his voice raspy in his own ears. “If you’re gonna choke me at least let me call you daddy.”

“You can’t fool me, Tony. You only act like an asshole when you’ve got nothing else going for you. I’ve known you your whole life, and without your toys, you’re nothing. Take away the billions, the inventions, the awards, and all you are is a boy who couldn’t even get his father to love him.”

Tony laughed. “The sad thing is, you’re way better at this than you ever were at business and you still don’t get it.” He spat a glob of something pink and salty. “You think I don’t need this? You think this isn’t exactly the closure I need before I can put you out of my life forever? My therapist is gonna be thrilled. She’s always on me to do something about my persistent feeling that I need to be punished. So swing away, cueball. All you’ll beat out of me is regret.”

“And what makes you think I won’t go after your precious little Steve?”

Tony’s face hardened, and his aching jaw clenched. “Because once we’re done here, you’re gonna be too dead.”

“I wonder how much he’d sell for on the black market? Plenty of men willing to pay millions for a petite blond like him.”

“C’mon, Obie.” Tony tried to keep up his indomitable banter but for the first time he couldn’t banish an undercurrent of anger. “You know this is what you really want. You trying to make me jealous? I mean we both know that you’re the one that couldn’t make dad love him.”

“I didn’t need it.” Two other men came out of a door behind Stane and had what looked like a car battery and jumper cables. “Just a signature saying I got the company in case of your death. Unfortunately, no luck there. So I’m going with the alternative: ransom of four billion, and I’m sure it’ll be paid. You’re the golden boy at SI, the company would tank if they lost you.” He lowered his voice. “But you’ll be destroyed when you lose your Soulmate to some prince with a house full of whores he bought.”

Tony smiled at the two brutes. “Hey guys, welcome to the party. Do I get to be the Christmas Tree? Sweet. Hey Obie,” He returned his gaze to Obadiah’s smug smirk. “I guessed it. Your riddle. I’m kind of a genius like that. Take away my billions, my inventions, my awards, leave me a loveless husk and I know exactly what I’d be. Except you might need an electric razor to finish the look. I’d still have that over you after outdoing and outmaneuvering you my whole life.”

“We’ll see about that.” From the darkness, there was an electric beeping noise, and a red light started flashing. “Four billion dollars, or you’re being sent back to Stark Tower in pieces.”

He walked out of the room, and the two masked men approached with the jumper cables.

Tony sighed. “If you guys don’t mind, I’m gonna take a little nap. You wake me up when you’re done.”

He closed his eyes and sank himself back into his mind as far as he could go, calling out silently,  _ Steve, baby, I’m right here. Come save me. You’re the only one that ever has. _

***

Steve could feel pain shoot through him, and he fell to the ground with a groan. Tony was hurt, he was being hurt, and he needed help.

“Steve!” Nat immediately rushed to his side and steadied him.

“He’s hurt.” Steve whispered. “They’re hurting him.”

Someone rapped the first part of “shave and a haircut” on the apartment door. Bucky answered it, and Wade stood there in a chunky Santa suit with a bag over his shoulder.

“Christmas is the best concealed carry day of all!” He announced merrily, stepping into the room and setting down his bag with a hefty thunk.

Natasha eyed him suspiciously, then looked down at Steve. “Seriously? That’s the guy?”

Steve managed to disconnect a bit from the pain, now it was only half as bad. “Yeah, but he’s good.”

Wade’s mottled face blushed. “Oh go on you. But yeah, seriously, this guy! I’m fantastic at stuff. You need a distraction? Or some applied violence? Or some distracting applied violence?”

Steve got himself onto a chair. “First, you two need to find him and get an idea of where he’s being held, how many people are there, and if possible, get some reinforcements. I don’t want you two going in alone.”

Bucky nodded. “I think we should set up a conference call with Jarvis, make sure you don’t end up walking into the middle of a police operation. They’re on this too and we don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

“Except the bad guys.” Wade put in helpfully. He wandered into the kitchen and started digging through the cabinets until he found a box of poptarts and chuckled greedily. He held the box in front of himself with both hands. “Quid pro quo, Mr. Rogers.”

“I still don’t know why poptarts is what it takes to pay you.”

Wade shrugged. “It’s all I could think of on the fly. You really know how to fluster a fella. But I tell you what. If I ever need a bunch of bad guys turned into gazpacho, you and me are strangers on a train, ok?” He pointed two fingers at his eyes and then at Steve’s.

“I guess?”

“Gucci!” Wade exclaimed, tearing into the toaster pastries. “You’ll probably have to remind me though. I don’t like to write stuff down.”

***

It was Wade’s idea for Steve and Natasha to go to X Manor for the X-Men. Wade told them that the X-Men weren’t exactly on good terms with him, so it was safer for Steve and Nat to go. Nat kept a stone cold face on, and Steve took a deep breath of the cold December air before ringing the doorbell.

They could hear hurried footsteps and a bit of arguing before the door burst open on a teenage girl wearing a green hoodie. she tucked some of her white-streaked brown hair behind her ear and looked over her shoulder before clearing her throat.

“Can I help ya?” She asked in a distinctly Southern accent.

“We need to speak to Professor Xavier.” Nat said in a stern voice, and Steve could tell this was Nat’s way of keeping her emotions hidden.

The girl’s eyebrow rose and she looked over her shoulder again as a gaggle of other teenagers raced up the stairs to the second floor.

“That’s just peachy, but I‘m not ‘bout to let ya in without knowing who ya are.” She popped a hip and narrowed her eyes.

“My name is Steve Rogers,” Steve introduced. “This is Natasha Barnes. We were told to come here by someone else for help.”

The girl still looked unimpressed and was about to say something when a white-haired woman came up behind her and put a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, the Professor would be happy to talk to you, Mr. Rogers, won’t you come in?” She gestured for Rogue to move out of the doorway. “I’m a teacher here, Ororo Monroe, pleased to meet you.”

Steve let out a silent breath of relief and smiled at her. “Nice to meet you too.”

Natasha kept her guard up, watching everywhere at once despite the caring and nice atmosphere. Ororo smiled pleasantly as she led the way down a hallway to the left.

“I apologize for Rogue, we do not often have, er,  _ positive interactions  _ with the outside world, so you must understand that people just showing up at the Mansion gets a few hackles up. However, I assure you that the Professor is very open-minded.”

“I hope so.” Steve said.

Steve was honestly shocked by how many different mutations there appeared to be. One girl went through a solid door, a boy was flicking TV channels with his eyes, there was even a guy with angel wings! The mutations seemed almost endless in this place.

Eventually, they were lead to a large oak door and Ororo opened it to reveal the infamous Professor Charles Xavier behind his desk, bald head, suit and all. There were subtle Christmas ornaments in his office like snowflakes or poinsettia, and a large Christmas tree in the corner.

Xavier looked up from some paperwork he had floating about the desk and smiled warmly. The papers all stacked nearly in a tray marked ‘Incoming Applications’ and he folded his hands neatly on the desk,

“Mr. Rogers, Ms. Barnes, pleased to make your acquaintance. Thank you, Ororo.”

Ororo nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her. Steve gestured to the two seats in front of the desk, and he and Natasha sat down.

“We need the X-Men’s help.” Nat started. “One of our friends were kidnapped, and he’s a high profile figure, so this was a high level job.”

Xavier’s eyebrow rose but the smile remained as he regarded Natasha for a moment or two.

“I see. Mr. Stark’s importance is not lost on me, he’s been a large help in the defense of this school and he’s collaborated with me on some of my more, shall we say,  _ ambitious  _ projects. Although I will say that this is indeed a ‘high level job’ and I will require information before I will put my students at risk.”

“Well…” Steve didn’t know where to start, so he went from the beginning. “The last time I saw him, he was leaving my-.”

Xavier held up a hand. “Mr. Rogers, I think it will save a great deal of time if you simply gave me permission to go through your memories.”

“My… my memories?”

Xavier nodded and leaned back in his wheelchair. “I would assume you know some small part of my capabilities? I am a psychic, Mr. Rogers, as such I can go into your mind and see or experience anything you have. With deference to more personal things and I would merely glean the barest of details unless otherwise instructed.”

“So you’d only see what’s happened since he left? Nothing too... personal?”

“Exactly. You need not worry about me stumbling into parts of your mind that would, well, let’s just say I can be very selective.” 

“Not his.” Natasha cut in. “Use mine. I’ve been investigating since his disappearance.”

“Whatever will be most helpful, Ms. Barnes,” Xavier now turned to Natasha. “Do I have your permission?”

“Yes.” She said without missing a beat.

The Professor nodded and wheeled around the desk to stop in front of Natasha. He slowly lifted his hands to hover on either side of her head and he closed his eyes.

“All I need you to do is relax, Ms. Barnes.”

Steve reached out and held Natasha’s hand, and could feel her body relax. He watched as Xavier’s eyes darted back and forth behind closed lids. His lips moved ever so slightly and his facial expression hardened for a brief moment before he dropped his hands and sat back.

“Well, that is quite a caper you’ll be pulling. I think it would behoove us to ‘check in’ on Mr. Stark before we go any further.” He looked visibly exhausted and a bit gray.

“How? All of his devices were smashed when he was kidnapped.” Steve asked.

Xavier smiled wryly and nodded. “Indeed, but his mind is still intact and I can access that. Follow me please.”

He directed them back to the door and out into the hallway just as a students were rushing about playing some kind of game that was absolutely against the rules, but they parted to let the Professor and his two companions pass without getting tackled. Xavier chuckled as they made their way down the hallway.

“Forgive their enthusiasm, we do not usually have… so many here on the holidays.”

“Just reminds me of home around the holidays.” Steve said with a forced smile.

Xavier nodded, looking at Steve as a part of the wall slid back revealing an elevator. “I can imagine this is a very hard time for you, Mr. Rogers. When one is so deeply linked to another person, their absence is like an open wound.”

They all got into the elevator and Steve couldn’t help but feel like he was in one of those sci fi movies Bucky made him watch as a kid. Natasha didn’t say a word as the elevator went down.

“Someone already tried to kill him and make it look like an accident.” Steve admitted. “Now he’s actually gone.”

“Misplaced, Mr. Rogers,” Xavier said in a comforting tone. “We will do everything we can to get him back.”

The elevator stopped after a long ride down and Xavier wheeled out. There were muffled yells and what was suspiciously akin to explosions coming from one end of the hall and a large round door on the other end. The Professor grimaced when glancing over his shoulder at the direction the sounds were coming from, then turned toward the round door and gestured that they should go toward it.

Natasha felt her instincts start to kick up and kept a hand discreetly hovering over one of her hip holsters. She’d been briefed on Xavier’s school back when she was Red Room, and knew how many different things Xavier did before he even made the school.

“What exactly are those noises?” Steve asked.

The Professor chuckled. “The X-men doing their exercises. Although judging from the overall thoughts of the team, it would seem they failed the ‘mission’ and Wolverine is, as he would put it, ‘chewing them a new one’. He was working with our younger recruits and hopefuls.”

Immediately that name rang a bell… specifically because of Wade. “Wait… Wolverine as in the big guy with claws?”

Charles chuckled again and shook his head. “That is  _ one  _ way to describe him, I suppose. He’s one of our best hands-on teachers here and, though he would vehemently deny it, I think he enjoys working with the children.”

“Wade is going to lose his shit.” Nat said.

“I’m sure Mr. Wilson will put aside whatever squabble he and Logan have for the sake of the mission.” Xavier muttered doubtfully and stopped in front of the round door.

A thin beam of blue light shot out of a lens in the middle, scanned the Professor’s eye and with a release of air and a mechanical greeting of  _ ‘Welcome, Professor’ _ , the door split down the middle and slid open. Both Steve and Natasha’s eyes widened at the room behind it. Beyond the door was a dimly lit, spherical room with a walkway to a platform with what appeared to be a headset resting on a table connected with cables. Xavier started to wheel down the walkway.

“You are welcome to join me, just be careful not to move about too much once Cerebro is active.”

“What is Cerebro?” Natasha asked as she and Steve stepped inside.

“It is an amplifier of sorts for my abilities. Unless I can actively see a person, I fear my abilities are a bit limited. This allows me to find and read anyone in the world as long as I know what I’m looking for.” 

The door slid closed behind them and the lights on the pathway dimmed slightly as Xavier reached the platform.

“And you’ll find Tony using it?” Steve asked, just to be sure.

“Precisely. Where he is, his condition, if there are people around him.” Xavier lifted the headset and settled it on his head.

The room became dark then outlines of the continents were projected onto the walls with tiny white lights appearing all over them. Xavier’s eyes narrowed slightly as he focused and slowly the map began to zoom closer, then one of the lights that was essentially inert flared and an image of Tony was brought to the fore. His body was covered in bruises, scrapes and burns. Suddenly, it looked like he was being electrocuted and he cried out.

Steve could feel the pain, and fell to the ground with a gasp. Natasha immediately held him in her arms and watched in horror as Tony was put through a shock of pain, and Steve reacted just as violently. She couldn’t understand how Steve was able to tamper down the connection to not feel that before, but maybe seeing it happen was too much for him.

Xavier removed the helmet and the room’s lighting returned to normal, the projections faded. He slowly turned his chair around and grimaced.

“I have the address of where he’s being held. I suggest we move quickly before any more harm can come to Mr. Stark. I would also suggest you allow me to put a temporary block in place, Mr. Rogers, to help you cope. Your connection to Mr. Stark will become overwhelmed unless seen to.”

Steve gasped breaths as it seemed Tony wasn’t being electrocuted anymore, but it was almost terrifying to not have the connection, even for a little while. He’d been able to tell when Tony had gotten into the car accident, or when he needed help, and Tony had sent him some messages to calm him.

“Can you just block the pain?” He asked. “I don’t want to lose the whole connection.”

“Absolutely.” Xavier assured. “I would not sever connection completely, just block that part that would initiate physical pain or discomfort. And it can be taken down as soon as things are back to normal.”

Steve swallowed, and said, “Okay. Just take it off when we find him.”

Xavier nodded and moved closer to Steve. “If you wouldn’t mind sitting forward, I fear I need to be a bit closer and you’ll need to relax and trust me.”

Nat helped Steve sit up properly and he tried to take some deep breaths without triggering his asthma. There was a slight moment where Steve could feel something like a cool breeze wash over his mind, then the pain was choked off completely. Xavier sat back once more and nodded.

“That should be enough. If you would not mind reaching out with your connection as best you can to ensure it is still fully intact? I fear I do not often work with Soulmates.”

Steve nodded, and tried to reach out to Tony. He could start feeling sensations, like blood in his mouth, his throat scratchy from yelling, and just Tony overall. He was thankful that the connection was still there, just not the pain.

“It’s still there.”

“Excellent. Now, if you will follow me back to my office, we will collect my team and begin making plans for how best to tackle this mission.”

Steve was still a bit shaky as they left the Cerebro chamber, but kept his head up and his mind on the mission. They went into the elevator once more, and when it opened on the ground floor, there was a commotion at the front door.

“C’Mon man, I’m telling ya that Xavier is expecting us, so here we are!” A familiar voice said.

They came upon a tall, rigid-looking brunette man wearing a pair of oddly red-tinted glasses standing with arms crossed and a frown firmly in place as he regarded Wade Wilson.

“I’m not letting you in. Last time you were here, it took weeks to get the students to stop imitating you!”

“You gotta admit, they were good imitations.”

“Wade, will you shut up?” A gruff voice cut in.

Xavier’s eyebrow rose as they got closer. “Scott, let Mr. Wilson, Ms.Thurman, and Mr. Summers in, please. They are here for a reason.”

Scott tilted his head back a second then huffed and stepped to the side. “Fine, but I’m watching you.”

“But you’re Cyclops,” Wade said cheekily as he and his team walked in. “You’ve only got one eye to watch me with.”

With Wade in his full suit, there was a man that appeared to be a cyborg who was a bit shorter than Wade, flat top, maybe 50’s, with a robotic arm and robotic eye. There was also a dark skinned woman in leather gear, afro hair, and a spot over her left eye with them. It wasn’t hard to figure out what the older guy’s power was, but what was the woman’s power?

“I have two eyes, you i-.”

“There’s time for squabbling later, Scott.” Xavier said sternly as he led the way back to his office without looking at them. “Well, actually there isn’t, but I doubt you’ll be able to contain yourselves. I do ask that you mind your language, Mr. Wilson, I tolerate very little profanity and I am aware that you are mocking me behind my back at this moment.”

“Fun, how many fingers do I have behind my back?”

The older guy smacked Wade in the back of the head with a scowl. “Sorry, Professor, he’s an arrogant child.”

“I’m used to dealing with children, Mr. Summers, I assure you.” The corner of Charles’s mouth twitched in a slight smile as the door opened and he went behind his desk.

“So!” Wade exclaimed. “Stevie, here are my two compadres: Terminator and Lucky Charms.”

“He means Cable and Domino.” The woman, Domino, corrected.

“Also, I meant to ask: how the hell does a super hot guy who runs a car repair end up with a super spy assassin sister?” Wade asked Natasha.

Natasha very minutely stiffened up, but her face hardened. “We’re not biological siblings. I was taken from my family when I was an infant, and trained with the Red Room until I was eight years old. A team was sent in and destroyed Red Room and saved me and the other girls, and I was adopted by my brother’s family. I’ve only added onto my skills since then when I was recruited into special ops.”

“Quite a backstory ya got there, darlin’.” A tall man with a cigar firmly in his teeth, his clothes covered in burns marks, and a few holes in them sauntered into the office and sat slowly on one of the sofas, grunting and cracking his neck. “Chuck, do me a favor an’ fix the damn timer on those projections, eh? One’a the kids fucked up the sensors and we woulda been stuck in there fer another hour if I hadn’t popped a claw in it.”

A few teenagers with Rogue also came in, they looked tired and sweaty in their black jumpsuit uniforms. Xavier frowned.

“Students, you are dismissed for the evening, thank you. Wolverine, this is Mr. Rogers and Ms. Barnes, they are recruiting the X-men for a rescue mission.”

Wolverine puffed on the cigar a moment then snorted. “Fabulous. Storm should be along in a minute or two, one’a the kids might or might not have broken his ankle.”

“Wow, you’re a shit teacher. Isn’t there some kind of duty teachers have to not hurt the kids? Or is that just your MO as the mega asshole you are?” Wade asked.

Wolverine’s eyes narrowed. “Fuck you, Wilson, it was a Danger Room excersize an’ injuries fuckin’ happen, or did ya think I did this ta my own goddamn clothes? I’m trainin’ these kids ta be crime fightin’ saviors o’ the planet or whatever, pretty sure gun-totin’ baddies don’t throw softballs.”

“Gentlemen, please, we have more pressing matters to deal with!” Xavier’s voice cut through the fighting just as Ororo and a tall red-headed woman came into the office and shut the door.

“Fuckin’ prune-faced bastard...“ Wolverine muttered.

“As I was saying,” Xavier said a little louder. “Mr. Stark is being held in an abandoned office block on the edge of New York City, the precise location is a bit spottier as he was almost unconscious and it is not possible to link to a mind in that state. But I can give you an approximate and go from there. I don’t think it will be difficult to locate.”

“Do you know what it is we’d be facing?” Storm asked turning to Steve and Natasha.

“From what I’ve gathered,” Nat said. “An old business partner paid some hired guns to kidnap Tony and hold him for ransom. He had disabled Tony’s AI, destroyed his personal electronics, and had disabled his security system where he was taken.”

“How many goons do you think this guy has?” Scott asked, and moved to step next to Xavier. “How big is this job? Because if it’s as severe as it’s sounding, you’re gonna need our whole team.”

“I don’t know, but knowing the guy in charge, he spent as much as he possibly could to accomplish this.”

“Wunderbar,” There was a puff of black smoke, and a blue-skinned, three-fingered man with bright yellow eyes was suddenly sitting on the arm of the couch next to Wolverine, who started coughing violently. “Zhen zhis caper vill be one to remember, ja?”

Steve started at the arrival of the blue mutant, and realized he’d have to take stock of everyone’s powers in order to figure out a plan.

“Can you guys tell us what abilities you have?”

“Weellll…” Wade started. “I’m a mercenary, as you know, but thanks to fork fingers over there, I can’t die, and regrow limbs if they’re cut off.”

Wolverine snorted and cocked an eyebrow at Steve. “What the fuck fer?”

“Logan, Mr. Rogers asks out of a courtesy,” Xavier smiled at Steve. “We have a wide variety on the team. Kurt there has already shown you what he can do, teleporting aside from his ability to go unseen in shadows. Ororo has complete control over weather phenomenon, Scott has high intensity optic beams, Logan has adamantium laced bones and a very effective healing factor.

“And myself and Jean behind you are psychics and telekinetics. They make up my core team with several of our younger members acting as a secondary team, although given what you’ve told us and what I’ve seen, I do not think this would be a good starting mission for them.”

“Why the hell not?” Logan asked as he switched his cigar to his hand. “Good practice for them.”

“You did just say they were having trouble with training, so I can understand the Professor’s concerns.” Steve said.

Kurt chuckled. “Ah, Mr. Rogers, I know it is hard to tell from his tone, but my friend vas actually being sarcastic.”

“Okay… what about you two?” He asked turning to Domino and Cable.

“I’m part machine, part human. A disease from the time I come from 50 years in the future.” Cable explained.

Steve gaped. Okay, so time travel was a thing. Good to know.

“And I’m lucky.” Domino said cheerfully.

“Still not a superpower.” Wade commented.

“Yes it still is.”

“Well we got ourselves a full deck then, huh?” Wolverine stood up. “While you guys suss out details, I’m gonna get somethin’ that isn’t gonna disintegrate off my body any second.”

Kurt snorted as Wolverine moved to leave. “Need help?”

Wolverine flipped him off with a muttered ‘you wish’ before leaving the office. Xavier took a slow calming breath,

“Well, I think we’ve come to an agreement, Mr. Rogers, Ms. Barnes. Is there anything else we should know that I don’t already before we make a plan?”

“I think we’re good.” Steve said.

“Very well, what is your timeline on this? When do you want to move? Clearly as soon as possible, but I’d imagine there is a window we need to take advantage of.”

“Nat, can you get a blueprint of the building and bring it back here?”

“Within the hour.” She said as she walked out.

“Once she comes back with the blueprints, we’ll be able to formulate a plan of attack. I think that Kurt should go room to room while there’s a distraction so that he can find out where Tony is, and where Stane is.”

Kurt raised his hand. “I certainly hope zhe blueprints are thorough. If I port into a room I’ve not seen before, I might end up halfvay through a bookshelf or somezhing and zhat is not a pleasant experience.”

“I bet you’re  _ amazing _ at hide and seek.” Wade said.

Kurt smiled showing rows of fangs. “Logan owes me three cases of beer, he hardly ever finds me.”

“Just make sure to get in and get out as quickly as possible. As soon as you find Tony, Nat will show up and get him out.” Steve eyed Wade with a serious look. “And DO NOT kill Stane.”

“But what if he shoots me first? That’d technically be self defense.”

“Only as a last resort, which I don’t think will be necessary.”

“We’ve done this sort of thing before,” Scott assured. “I don’t foresee us having too many problems-.”

The door opened again and Wolverine stepped in wearing a fresh t-shirt and jeans.

“We got a problem.”

“What happened?” Domino asked.

“Them.” Wolverine jerked his thumb behind him, where Rogue and two other teenagers were standing looking both sheepish and indignant somehow at the same time. “Listening at the door and now they wanna come along. I said no, but maybe hearing all the adults yelling at them will work better?”

Rogue shoved past Wolverine. “Come on, Professor, we’ve been trainin’ for this forever! We can handle it!”

Another girl with long brown hair nodded her head eagerly, side-stepping Wolverine. “And you said our team was the best out of the recruits!”

The boy in the trio, tall, thin with black eyes with red irises and medium length brown hair getting partially in his face ducked under Wolverine’s arm as the man tried to stop him.

“They’re right, Prof., we been trainin’ our tails off! Think it’s bout time for us to hit the field, no?”

“Aren’t you guys a little… young to do a mission like this?” Steve asked carefully.

“Young shmoung,” The second girl said. “I know for a fact the first team was a lot younger than us when they started!”

“Oh here ve go.” Kurt mumbled.

“Yes, and that wasn’t a good thing and we learned from that mistake,” Jean said firmly. “You are not going.”

“Besides, you know you have to pass the finals before you can go out on missions.” Ororor pointed out.

“But that’s all paperwork! Give us some real experiences!” The boy argued.

“Enough!” Xavier said loudly. “The decision has been made.”

At that all three kids turned to Wolverine and gave him a mix of puppy eyes and scowls, to which he blinked and looked around.

“No, that ain’t workin’ this time. Knock it off.”

Steve suddenly remembered when he was about 14 and begging Bucky’s parents to let them go see a PG-13 film. It wasn’t a horror film, but it also wasn’t purely for kids either. He kept the smile to himself.

“Marie, Remy and Katherine, we are not discussing this further, please return to your rooms.” Xavier said, to which all three teenagers huffed and complained loudly as they were ushered back out of the office.

“Great, now I gotta deal with that when I get back.” Wolverine muttered, “Ya do know they’re gonna sulk fer a good week now, right?”

“Big softie, just bring zhem for ice cream and they’ll be fine.” Kurt chuckled, his tail twitching back and forth.

  
***

3 hours later, Steve had the plan mapped out, and Nat, the X-Men, and Deadpool’s team headed to the location on the Blackbird. And the whole way Wade was complaining about not being able to drive.

Wolverine clutched the armrests of his bucketseat, his eyes closed. “Will ya kindly shut the  _ fuck  _ up!”

“Doing that has never worked for me in the past. Even if you sewed my mouth shut, I’d find a way to annoy the shit out of you. Worth it, though.”

“I’ll cut your tongue out if you don’t stop talking  _ right now _ .” Nat spat. “You are going to take this seriously, you are going to cooperate, and you are not going to fail, under any circumstances. Are we  _ clear _ ?”

She wasn’t going to let some asshole make her lose Tony. He may be her boss, but she also considered him a friend, and she knew Steve would be heartbroken if he didn’t make it back. And if she had to cut Wade into bite size pieces in order to ensure that, so be it.

Wolverine chuckled, lifted a hand, and popped out three metal claws. “I’ll help.”

“Everyone relax.” Scott muttered from the cockpit. “We’re almost there.”

“Anyone else feel like something’s off?” Ororo murmured, her eyes whited over and a fog began to obscure them. “Not that I don’t have complete confidence in the cloaking device, something tells me we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

Cable loaded his giant gun and Domino checked her uzis.

“We’ll make it.” Domino said. “Lady Luck is on our side.”

“And we have enough biological firepower behind us.” Jean murmured as she focused on the windshield. “I don’t sense anything wrong. It all feels on par with what you guys told us.”

“Hey psychic lady!” Wade said. “Can you tell me who wins the Super Bowl this year?”

Jean smiled slightly. “I can read minds, not predict the future.”

“That’s a shame. I was hoping I’d actually win at fantasy football this year.”

“Jets win.” Cable said.

“THANK YOU!”

“Super Bowl?” Kurt asked, tilting his head.

Wolverine snorted. “American football thing since they suck at hockey and soccer doesn’t exist.”

“Ah.”

“I’m gonna land us over there a ways away.” Scott called over his shoulder. “So seatbelt sign is on, no smoking and hold on.”

Wolverine squeezed his eyes shut again and grunted. “Just land the damn thing.”

Everyone put on their seatbelts and Nat checked her phone. “Jarvis just texted that the police and EMTs are on the way. They won’t come to the building until we give the OK.”

“Sounds good.” Scott furrowed his brow as he brought the Blackbird in for a smooth landing in an open stretch of field not far from the target. “And that’s that.”

Wolverine hurried to get the seatbelt off and stood up. He went to the back where the steps would open then stopped, sniffed the air, and growled,

“Think I know what you thought was off, ‘roro. We got stowaways.”

“What?” Ororo stood up and moved to be next to him as Wolverine pulled open the door to the back of the jet.

And there they were, Rogue and the two other teenagers huddled in their uniforms. Scott groaned and rubbed his forehead.

“Rogue, Remy, Kitty, we told you to stay behind.”

“And we didn’t listen.” the boy, Remy, stood up. “C’mon, you might need us!”

“No.” Wolverine snarled. “You three stay put on the jet.”

“I dunno.” Wade considered. “They’ve got the brains to be able to hide on the Blackbird under our noses. Plus, you can’t ever argue with rebellious teenagers. Trust me, not smart.”

“I ain’t arguin’, I’m tellin’ em!” Wolverine snapped.

“C’mon, Wolvie, let us prove ourselves!” Kitty said.

“Yeah, Logan, give us a chance!” Rogue grabbed Wolverine’s arm.

“This isn’t a field trip, kids…” Scott reasoned.

“We know!” Remy said eagerly. “Dat’s why we stowed away!”

The adult members of the X-men looked at each other, then Wolverine huffed. “Fine, on one condition: if Chuck asks, you all make sure to include how incredibly against this we all are. Got it?”

The three teenagers made a show of congratulating each other and promising Wolverine and the other X-men that they’d be careful and never complain or ask for anything ever again. The back of the Blackbird opened and everyone exited.

“So remember the plan.” Natasha said. “Storm, you give us cover that looks like a snowstorm, and the ground team starts from the bottom.”

“I can do that.” Storm started to lift off the ground and the sky darkened as clouds began to form and gather, the wind picked up and snowflakes started to flurry about.

“And our part to play, cher?” Remy asked, flipping a card between his fingers.

“Depends on what your powers are.” Nat answered.

Remy winked, then the card glowed and he threw it. The card stuck to a discarded cardboard box and exploded.

“Gambit makes things go boom.”

“I can do this!” Kitty ran right through Natasha. “Oh, I think I picked Shadowcat as my codename too.”

“I just copy people an’ drain their life force by touchin’ them, I don’t think y’all want me to demonstrate though.” Rogue shrugged.

“Then Gambit, if things start turning into a firefight, you lay cover fire for your teammates. Shadowcat, you can take the lower floors looking for Tony while Nightcrawler takes the upper floors. And Rogue, you can go with the ground team and take out guards as discreetly as possible.”

The three teenagers nodded excitedly. Wolverine grabbed Rogue’s arm.

“You stick with me, if things go south, give me touch, got it?”

She nodded seriously. “Got it.”

Nightcrawler gave Shadowcat a thumbs up and Gambit moved to stand with Cyclops and Jean. The psychic closed her eyes and focused for a moment, her brow furrowing,

“They don’t suspect anything, I think we’re good to go.”

“Move out.” Nat said.

Wolverine, Rogue, Jean, Nat, Domino, Cable, and Wade started heading toward the building, Nightcrawler disappeared, and Shadowcat started heading toward the side of the building. The building itself was ten stories high, had been abandoned during construction due to health violations, but no one bought the land to tear it down. Some spots had windows, others didn’t, and according to intel, only the first three floors had been finished fully. The group hid behind old cars and dumpsters with their communicators active, and Nat whispered,

“Jean, how many on the first floor?”

“There’s a dozen or so, it looks like the first three floors are occupied as well.” Jean murmured, her eyes squeezed shut in concentration, “I’d have to get closer to know more.”

“Nightcrawler, you doing okay?”

Kurt bamfed up the stairwell inside the building until he was on the third floor. “So far so good, oddly quiet zhough… I’d be vary if I vere you.”

“If you come across an older man, bald, beard, and expensive suit, that’s the mastermind behind this. He’ll probably be packing, so be careful.”

“Roger zhat, Vidow.” Kurt murmured.

“Wolverine, Rogue, you move to behind the armored truck with Jean so she can get a better read on the place.”

Wolverine nodded and popped his claws, jerking his head toward the indicated truck. “C’mon Jeanie, let’s move.”

They carefully made their way to the specified spot and Wolverine leaned back against the truck with Rogue staying close to Jean. The psychic concentrated harder until she opened her eyes and breathed heavily.

“It looks about the same, unless they have the ability to block my probe, but I doubt they thought of that.” 

“They probably weren’t expecting any mutants at all.” Cable murmured. “Domino, Wade, we’ll go in first.”

The three moved quickly and quietly toward the opening without a door. Wade drew his katanas, Domino got out her knife, and so did Cable.

“Whoever gets the first kill gets tacos.” Wade whispered.

Very quietly, Domino moved in and there were two guards on either side of the door. As quickly as she could she elbowed the first one in the face, and kicked the second one in the head. Both were out instantly.

“Guards at the door unconscious.” She said.

They continued to move through the first floor knocking out guards, and soon Nat followed behind them, signalling Jean, Rogue, and Wolverine to follow. They slowly made their way after Natasha. The interior of the building had chipped grey walls , broken glass walled conference rooms, and what looked to almost be a lobby. Wolverine crouched down and sniffed the air as they got to the stairwell.

“There’s a guy around the corner there and sounds like three in the room to the right.”

He also nearly leapt out of his skin when Shadowcat popped in next to them, hurriedly apologizing before giving her report.

“Mr. Stark isn’t being held on the first floor and there’s no basement or anything like that.”

“Good work, punkin.” Wolverine muttered, his eyes trained forward in case somebody else decided to pop up unexpectedly.

“Nightcrawler, report.”

There was a beat of silence, then shouting came from the upper floor a second before Kurt’s voice crackled over the comm unit,

“Um, vell, zhe zhing is... I may or may not have been seen and am under fire.”

“Goddammit.” Wolverine growled.

Wade cracked his neck, sheathed his katanas, and pulled out his handguns. “Playtime.”

Two guards came out of a room on the left, and Wade shot them both in the head. Nat moved forward against three guards, put one in a thigh lock flip, then tripped another with her baton Wolverine snarled and stood up, rolled his shoulders before he let loose a roar and ran toward the third. He shoved his claws into the guards stomach then up, lifting the guy off his feet before throwing the guard over his head and behind him.

He turned to Rogue and Jean. “Stay down!”

“Gambit, Cyclops, engage with the hostiles. We’ve been seen.”

Cable shot two more guards and Domino opened a door to find a guy that fit the description of Tony’s captor. She smiled.

“Hello Mr. Stane.”

Stane pulled out a handgun, but Domino threw a knife into his shoulder and put him in a headlock.

“Who the fuck are you!?” Stane yelled.

“Domino, here to save Tony Stark.”

Jean stepped behind her, a finger to her temple. “Mr. Stane, you’re going to feel an overwhelming urge to drop your weapon and any others you might have on your person and come quietly with us.”

Stane suddenly calmed, dropped his gun, and got up. Domino watched as Jean and Rogue escorted him out of the room.

“I’d just like to say, that was incredibly creepy.”

Jean smiled tightly, her eyes trained on Stane. “My only regret is I can only control one person at a time, this would be so much easier otherwise.”

Cyclops shot off a volley of optic blasts while Gambit charged up five cards and threw them through the air to stick to a pair of guards,

“Dealers hand wins!” Gambit laughed as the cards exploded and knocked them out. “This ain’t so bad, right?”

“Don’t get cocky.” Cyclops said severely over the noise, but couldn’t help but smile slightly.

In working with the military, Tony had heard all kinds of weird stories about how extensive torture brought out the brain’s weird defense mechanisms. He’d gone numb for a fairly long time. That was kind of nice, but apparently that wore out. Then it had just been trying to keep himself together, focused on something that let him ride out the pain. When that ran out he tried to let himself go unconscious, but apparently too many years of hard partying had hardened his ability to stay upright when smarter heads would know to shut down. So that was when the hallucinations had started.

It had been little stuff at first. The wrong faces on the anonymous thugs dishing out the abuse. The feeling that there were too many people in the room. The inexplicable sense that he could hear Jarvis talking in his ear, but babbling weird confessions as if Jarvis was the one being tortured. 

It was nothing he couldn’t parse out between episodes, until the sound of thunder began. He really truly thought he was hearing thunder, and hurricane force winds building. And then gunfire. That was weird. It was only when his tormentors seemed to take notice that he had to wonder if he was hearing what he was hearing, or if he’d actually fallen unconscious. He was ninety-nine percent sure that the blue guy that popped in, looked him in the face with an approving nod, and popped away again couldn’t have been real, but he kept his hopes up about the guns.

Finally, after a confirmation from Nightcrawler, Nat found the room Tony was being held in. She had a feeling there were people other than Tony in the room, so she slid a small disc under the door, and smoke erupted in the room. She opened the door, and quickly took out the two men who were in the room with Tony by using her batons. When the smoke cleared, she saw Tony was tied to a chair, beaten and bloody.

She rushed over to him. “Tony, can you hear me?”

He nodded weakly. “Hoping you’re real, but yeah.”

She got out a knife and started cutting the bindings on Tony’s chair. “I’m as real as they get. And you can thank Steve for getting us in here.”

Tony smiled, though it hurt his split lip. “Got me through to this point too. I’ll add it to the list.”

Once the bindings were off, she helped Tony to his feet. Unfortunately right when they were about to start walking, three men blocked the door with machine guns. Natasha discreetly bumped her foot against the chair Tony was in to test it, but it was bolted to the floor. If she had a distraction of some kind, she could take them out, though she was out of smoke bombs.

However, a sharp sound of metal slicing through flesh stopped her, and the three men fell to the ground with their heads cut off. Wade stood proudly over the bleeding heap, swinging his katana to sling the blood off. He called over to Natasha,

“Sorry were they yours? I can go get you some more. I didn’t mean to hog.”

Nat simply rolled her eyes. “Give us cover while I get Tony out of the building. I’m sure your body can take it.” She said as she started herding Tony toward the door and over the bodies.

“Roger dodger, scariest lady I’ve ever met!” Wade gave her an impromptu salute and skipped coquettishly down the hall ahead of them.

Tony shook his head and tried not to drool too much blood. “Is that… wasn’t that… the guy in the red suit… wasn’t he the grand marshall at Pride, like, three years ago?”

Nat snorted. “Wouldn’t put it past him. But he’s a mutant mercenary, he can’t die.”

Tony sighed sarcastically. “Well now things have just gotten weird.”

“I’ve got Tony,” Nat reported as they moved down the hall and sent the automatic text to the police. “Everyone clear out.”

The X-men all started to fall back with Storm slowly descending whilst the skies cleared once more and they were ready to leave. The three youngest members of the team were gathered near the Blackbird, possibly eager to get home and share their exploits with less fortunate, or smarter, students back at the Mansion. Everyone got out of the building and met the police squadron outside. But once Cable did a head count, he asked,

“Where’s Wade?”

As if to answer the question, the top of the building exploded and Wade flew into the air with it while screaming.

“How the hell did he blow up the building?” Domino asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Cable answered.

Tony blinked. “ _ Why _ the hell did he blow up the building? Don’t you think there might be some evidence in there I might need if… ow ok, long sentences hurt somehow.” He slumped into silence.

Almost on cue, a camera fell onto the ground in front of Domino’s feet. She just smiled smugly and picked it up. She turned it on, rewound, and there was Tony’s ransom video with Stane visible in the background.

“I think I’ve got what you need.”

An EMT helped Tony onto a stretcher and covered him in a shock blanket. As they rolled him towards the ambulance he summoned up enough strength to call,

“Hey, are there any shots on there of me being really impressively butch under torture? I might want those for Christmas cards next… forever.”

Natasha simply smiled and ran a hand through his hair. “After the investigation is over, I’ll be sure to take some screenshots. You just focus on recovering.”

He looked at her earnestly, felt his face tremble and asked in a low voice. “Did you get him?”

“He’s already in custody of the X-Men, and being taken away. He won’t walk away from this one.”

Tony nodded. “Ok, well, good. But if this stellar chain of custody situation doesn’t work out… just don’t let him walk away. He...” He cleared his throat and blinked back tears. “He threatened Steve.”

Natasha’s face hardened and she stepped back. “If he does walk away, he won’t live long enough to enjoy it. I promise.”

Tony nodded. “Thanks, Ms. Barnes. Hack Jarvis and give yourself a raise.”

Tony was loaded into the ambulance, and was driven away. Natasha watched in silence, and heard a familiar chucklehead walk up.

“That was great, right? Did you see how I blew up the roof? Did you see me? I did a flip, did you see me do the flip?”

“Everyone saw you.” Nat said with a roll of her eyes.

Deadpool pumped both fists. “Yissss!”

“Stark had a point though,” Cable said, “ _ Why _ did you blow it up?”

Deadpool looked at him astonished and gestured at the smouldering building with both outstretched hands. “Because fliiiiip!”

Natasha punched him in the head hard enough that his neck broke, but of course, he kept talking. He leaned over to Cable and stage-whispered,

“I think she likes me.”

“I’d french kiss my brother before I’d ever be interested in you.”

“I’d settle for that. But keep talking.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure to follow me on twitter and Instagram. Both are under the user @roryqpotter


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Tony finally get their happy ending.

Steve immediately went to the hospital after Nat told him where Tony was being taken. He didn’t even need to ask which room he was in, he just followed the Soulmate bond straight to him. By the time he got there, Tony was being bandaged up for what looked like electrical burns and Steve’s heart broke. Tony looked like he’d been to hell and back with burns, cuts, bruises, even a black eye. Maybe he’d take up Natasha’s offer on killing Stane after all.

Tony’s voice had gotten pretty rough after he’d had an hour to rest and calm down. He hadn’t realized how much he must have been yelling at some point. Or maybe it was smoke inhalation. He hoped it was smoke inhalation. He managed a smile for Steve, though, and croaked as he came close,

“Hey babe.”

Steve smiled through tears and gently wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Tony put his arms gingerly around Steve and murmured into the scent of his hair, “Yeah. We’re safe.”

“I didn’t know if the plan would even work. I just tried to set it up as best as I could, and I don’t even have combat experience. It was sheer luck that it worked.”

“Well, you made Natasha, a human froot loop, and I’m assuming Charles Xavier listen to you and work together. That’s not nothing.”

Steve backed up and wiped his eyes on his hand. “How are you on good terms with Professor Xavier anyway?”

Tony sighed. “The usual. Weapons. Tech. Everyone likes the guy with the toys.”

“I guess fate put that together for you because of this. Otherwise, it’d have just been Nat, Wade, Cable, and Domino. And we wouldn’t have been able to find you as quickly as we did.”

“And Stane’s done. For good.”

“Yeah, let’s hope.” Steve placed a gentle kiss on Tony’s forehead and sat next to him on the hospital bed. “Definitely one of the more eventful Christmases of my life.”

“And it’s hardly half over.” He fumbled for the bedside TV remote. “Wanna watch some creepy stop-motion reindeer learn the value of sharing?”

“Sure. But it’s actually good animation for the time it was made.”

“Creepy is different from bad. Your friend Wade, for example.”

“He’s not creepy, just annoying.”

Tony shrugged and winced. “Annoying reindeer it is.”

Steve chuckled and snuggled carefully into Tony’s side, making sure to avoid any painful areas. He couldn’t help but notice how calm Tony was being despite what he had been through. After dating him for months, Steve had come to associate this kind of behavior with hiding how Tony felt.

“Are you okay? Emotionally?”

Tony put down the remote that betrayed the shake in his hand. “Right this second, yeah, I think I’m ok. In general, no. I feel like… I don’t know. Like I did something wrong. Like it was me that did this.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. All you did was… start a different direction than what that guy liked. People need some of the inventions you’ve come up with. I’m pretty sure Bucky is even thinking about taking you up on your offer for an arm.”

Tony smiled at his own tremoring hand. “That would be good, Better if he’s willing to take me up on the offer of a job. But, yeah, I don’t feel like I did anything wrong changing direction. I feel like maybe this happened because I didn’t change fast enough. I don’t know. It’s not logical. Just that Stane asked me what I would be if I weren’t rich and gifted and famous, and all I keep thinking is that I’d be just like him. And that scares the shit out of me. Like I made him happen somehow.”

“No…” Steve held Tony’s shaking hand. “No, you’d still have something he doesn’t: a heart.”

A grateful smile pushed Tony’s bruised cheeks back and made them ache. “Yeah. But I feel like I didn’t always. So thanks for that.”

“It’s the truth. You may seem like an asshole on the outside, but you actually care so much and so deeply about people that Stane couldn’t even hope to match it. How could anyone with a heart look at a _child_ and think that they’re just a means to an end?”

Tony shrugged. “Well, I was kind of a small kid. And a multi-billion dollar company is a heck of an end.”

“That’s not the point and you know it.”

“Yeah, but I don’t like rhetorical questions. I don’t get to hear myself talk.” He put his arm around Steve and kissed the part in his hair. “Anyway, we should probably stop. You’re about to out-schmaltz the claymation reindeer.”

“And yet you love me anyway.”

“Like crazy.”

***

The investigation and court hearings against Stane went by incredibly quickly. The video Domino found helped, so did the testimonies of the X-Men and X-Force. Going through Stane’s financial records, it revealed that he had been embezzling money for decades, even when Howard was alive. So not only was he charged with crimes like attempted murder and kidnapping, but also embezzlement.

Tony decided this was the time to finally turn his company around. Once everything was put together, Tony worked around the clock to shut down the weapons branches, and open up new branches for SI. He made sure to give everyone employed the option to move to the new branches via training and transfers, and paid those who didn’t fairly. Tony’s first idea was _Stark Prosthetics_ , and Bucky got the first ever Stark Prosthetic arm that worked almost like it had grown there.

And in celebration of the first set of prosthetics being launched, there was a launch party at Tony’s apartment for friends and family.

For the occasion, he’d cleared a large section of the living room floor and had a pristine version of the front end of a SI roadster assembled and open for display. Bucky had agreed to take charge of taking off pieces and explaining the features for all the guests. He knew he was also showing off the lifelike capabilities and precision movements of his new arm, and he didn’t exactly love being in front of people, but Tony had made sure to keep the environment calm and cordial, and Bucky had to admit that being able to talk about his specialty made it easier to be in a crowd. The fact that Tony had cut him a fat consulting check didn’t hurt, either.

“Clint, I think I’m afraid for you now.” Steve said after he sipped his beer.

“Why?” Clint didn’t bother to stop ogling his own boyfriend as he leaned over to pull out a spark conduit.

“Because, as you’ve kept saying, Bucky doesn’t hold back in bed. And that arm can lift 800 pounds easily.”

Clint grinned. “Oh did you think you’re seeing the first test run of the arm? You’re adorable.” Clint gave Steve a wink and lifted up his shirt at the hip to show four perfectly formed light-blue finger marks. “I’m thinking of getting those as a tattoo.”

Steve spit out his beer in shock and started coughing. “Jesus, Clint. Realize, Tony will want to take pictures of that if he finds out. In the name of research and liability.”

Clint clapped him on the back. He sighed and pulled out his phone. “Ok ok. But if he asks why I’m sending him this you better admit that you told me to.” To Steve’s surprise, he didn’t actually take a picture of his marks, just pushed a few buttons with a widening smile and muttered. “Aaaaand send…”

“What did you just send?” Steve was getting more worried by the minute.

“A picture. Captioned. Tastefully cropped. Don’t worry, I’m not sending pics of my butt to your boy.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

There was a loud crow of laughter from across the room from Tony, who began patting Bucky on the shoulder. Bucky turned around and gave Clint a look.

“For science!” Clint called.

“I’m getting out of here before I influence more damage.” Steve said as he got up from his seat.

“You need to worry less, is all,” Clint called after him. “it only makes people try to fix things.”

Tony followed Steve to check up on him. “You ok?”

“Considering I just accidentally had Clint send you a cropped nude, I’m a bit disgusted.”

Tony shrugged. “I think he did it to annoy Bucky more than you. I won’t be surprised if I get a picture of a big blue handprint tomorrow morning. That guy’s a smart-ass masochist if ever there was one.”

“And sadist, since he drops in bits about their sex life when Bucky’s not around.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Yeah that’s a little obnoxious, but come on. I’ll bet you like to have updates. You wanna know that your friend is ok.”

“The bond, Tony, I’d know if he wasn’t okay. I don’t need intimate details of his sex life. I already can’t look at pudding the same way anymore.”

Tony laughed. “There’s a non-perverse way to look at pudding?”

“I know what you’re thinking, and _no_ , food is not entering our sex life.”

“See there you go again. You bring this stuff up then act like it’s not you doing it. You’ve got issues, Rogers.” Tony gave Steve an affectionate half-hug. The party was going great, and he hadn’t even felt like drinking.

“I must if I’ve put up with you for so long.” Steve gave Tony a peck on the cheek.

Tony slid his hand down Steve’s back to rest suggestively low. “So what’s your friend bond telling you right now? Is Barnes doing ok? Enjoying his gig? Wouldn’t notice if maybe we wander down the hall for a few minutes?”

Steve blushed. “Seriously? But this is your launch party.”

“Yeah it is. So I’m thinking I should get to do whatever makes me, and the person most important to me, happy. So long as everything else is running smoothly.”

Steve shivered in anticipation… and suddenly stopped regretting wearing the 4 in 1 packer to the party instead of his usual. They also kept the harness and insert in Tony’s room for special occasions.

“Well… I do know one thing that would make me happy.” He said with a smirk. “And it’s the reason I wore Buster instead of my usual tonight.”

Tony’s smile tipped up high on one side like a rocket being raised on the launch pad. He hooked his arm through Steve’s and began strolling them towards the hallway.

“Walk casual.”

Steve walked as casually as he could as they made their way to Tony’s room. Somehow, he got the feeling that Natasha knew, but he didn’t care to analyze that. As soon as the door was closed Tony pressed Steve back against it. He kissed his neck and worked his way down his throat and chest, pinching buttons apart one-handed ahead of himself.

“We should probably leave the binder on,” He murmured. “if we’re gonna get back before people notice.”

Steve ran his hand through Tony’s hair with a groan. “And you know I use it with clothes on. So get the - mm - _thing_.”

Tony nodded. “Just a sec,” and got down on his knees to mouth Steve’s fly. He loved the feel of the soft molded anatomy under his boyfriend’s khakis.

He got up and rummaged swiftly in the bedside drawer. The harness was elastic, to run under garments without shifting, but Tony managed to add an insert piece that was a rod sensor. It was a higher tech version of a censor that transmitted to Steve what the dildo was feeling.

When Tony handed Steve the harness, Steve immediately went to the bathroom and tried to be as quick as possible with switching everything out. He managed to get his shoe covered feet out of his pants and boxers without tripping. Then he put the packer over the rod sensor, and put the harness on itself. Since Tony had tinkered with it, he could feel that there was an air flow as soon as it was put into place. He got on his boxers, but put the packer through the front fly, and exited the bathroom.

Tony already had his pants off and his shirt open and sat on the bed. He gave a soft appreciative moan at the sight of Steve, shoulders back and head high, as he came out of the bathroom. Tony beckoned him over,

“C’mere. Let me get you warmed up.”

“I’m plenty hot already, but I’ll take you up on it.”

Steve strode confidently over to Tony and kissed him full on the mouth. He tended to be more dominant when he had the harness and packer on, probably because he became more confident with it, and pushed Tony onto his back then settled between his legs.

Tony melted into the motion and relished the sense that Steve was going to do whatever he wanted. He reached down between them and ran his fingers lightly over the head of Steve’s prosthesis.

“You know if Clint ever gets too mouthy with his over-share, you could always shut him up by letting him know where the sensor tech in his gear-daddy’s spanking hand got it’s alpha testing.”

Steve shuddered a bit, as usual mind-blown by how realistic it felt. “He’d just applaud us because he’s an asshole.” He lead Tony’s hand onto Steve’s prosthetic cock and started thrusting into it.

“Oh fuck, you feel so good. If I beg will you let me suck you?” Tony gave his best coquettish bossy-sub smile.

“Why h-haven’t you started already?”

Tony was already sliding himself down off the edge of the bed. “I just like begging I guess,” he whispered, and started babbling unprompted as he knelt at Steve’s feet. “Please baby, please let me suck your hot cock.”

Steve had to repress a full body shudder at that voice, and tugged at Tony’s hair. “And what will you do to yourself while you suck my cock?”

Tony flicked his tongue out to impudently taste Steve’s head without permission. “I’m gonna get myself all ready for you, so you can fuck me as hard as you want.” He pried a little bottle of lube from the space between the mattress and the bed frame. “if that’s what you want.”

Steve ran his cock over Tony’s cheek, and relished in the realistic sensation of Tony’s skin against the head. “And you’ll fuck yourself on your fingers, so you’re halfway there when I’m ready.”

Tony nodded, nuzzling against the smooth hard presence at his cheek. “God, I’m halfway there already. But yeah, I’m gonna make it real easy for you to get me moaning your name, baby.”

“Then get started.”

There was a small plastic pop and Steve could feel the way Tony’s lips went soft and quivery as he started to prep himself. Tony rocked slowly with his own touch, and his breath got warmer and ran deeper. He turned his head, eyes closed, to run his open mouth down the side of Steve’s shaft to his head, describing the motion of his fingers with the tip of his tongue, prodding and rolling.

Steve would never be able to get over the sight of Tony sucking his prosthetic cock. It was like something out of a dream, something he never thought he could have. But he was a bit impatient, so he gently held Tony’s jaw open, and slid just the head of his cock inside. He groaned at the sensation of saliva, tongue, and lips around it, and barely held himself back from thrusting in between Tony’s lips.

Tony wasn’t showing any restraint at all, eager to show Steve just how fucking bad he wanted him, and to show off his hard-won fellatio skills and well-suppressed gag reflex. He yearned forward, sliding his lips as far along Steve’s shaft as Steve’s gentle grip on him would let him, longing to socket his sweet sensitive prosthesis between his tonsils and squeeze him against his soft palate with his tongue.

Steve groaned a little louder as Tony started to move back and forth on his dick. He could actually feel Tony’s tongue shift around on him, the sucking sensation, all of it. He started to minutely thrust in time with Tony’s movements, and could hear Tony moan from fucking himself with his fingers. The vibration of his moans were almost too much.

“Are you str-etched yet?” Steve gasped.

Tony didn’t free his mouth up to reply, but nodded shortly with an affirmative moan. Steve roughly tugged on Tony’s hair to move him off and directed Tony to get on the bed on all fours. Tony obeyed, flushed and eager. He got down on his knees and elbows, and glanced back.

“Would you do one thing for me?”

“Depends on what it is.” Steve said as he kneaded Tony’s ass cheeks.

Tony shifted to hold all his weight on one arm and brought the other hand back to rest on the small of his back. It was shaking visibly. “I’m not nervous. I do trust you. I just feel better if I have something to hold onto. Makes it easier to relax. So go as hard as you want, I can take it, but help me hold my hand still.”

With an exhale, Steve gave a small ‘ok’, but reached into the bedside drawer for the second lube they used for this. It was designed to look and feel like ejaculate, and Steve had almost come on the spot the first time they used it in the bedroom. He quickly put some into his hand and lubed up his rubber cock, then did something a little ballsy. He inserted the tip of the container into Tony, and squeezed out some of it.

Tony gave a small fluttering laugh. “Well that was underwhelming after so much build-up. Was it good for you?”

Steve took out the bottle and put it on the bedside table. “I like the idea of us going at it for hours.” Steve gently ran a finger over the bit of lube dripping out of Tony. “That I came in you so much you were dripping.”

Tony shivered and sighed and didn’t have anything else smart-ass to say. Instead he just whispered,

“God, yes, please…”

Steve held onto Tony’s hand, and with his other, lined himself up with Tony’s hole. “You tell me if I go too roughly.”

Tony nodded. “I will. But promise me you’ll try to.”

“I promise.” And Steve shoved all the way in one thrust.

Tony braced and felt a hot tingle rush up his back at the sweet satisfying pressure and fullness of feeling his boyfriend, the _love of his life,_ ride into him like he was owned.

For a moment, Steve just stilled inside of Tony and enjoyed the sensations. He was hot, wet, and tight, and Steve could feel every bit of it. He lightly pulled at one of Tony’s ass cheeks and pulled out painfully slow.

Tony moaned with mingled torment and delight. He loved the way Steve teased him, loved finding out which of them would start to press for a rhythm first. It felt good to let go of everything and just dive deep into how much he _wanted_ Steve.

Steve pounded back in, and Tony’s skin made an audible slap at the movement. He didn’t waste anymore time, he started a hard and fast rhythm and had to hold onto Tony’s shoulder so he wouldn’t fall. It was still embarrassing how easily this could get him off, but even with the strap on, he could come multiple times. And the sounds Tony was making were fucking incredible.

“Oh, oh fuck me,” Tony murmured through clenched teeth. “Oh god…”

The sensation of being jarred and filled and stimulated and shaken to his core swept up through him. He dug his fingers into the covers and squeezed Steve by the wrist, matching his already-escalating thrusts and shifting on his knees to get it right where he wanted it.

All too soon, Steve’s thrusts faltered and he groaned loudly as he came in his boxers. He stayed inside of Tony though, he knew it would only be a minute or two before he could go again, and actually get Tony off.

Tony groaned appreciatively as Steve shook and slowed. He squeezed his wrist again. “Do you want me to finish? I don’t mind if you’d rather get back. I know parties make you nervous.”

He wasn’t just being nice. His own cock was aching hard and he was still a hedonist with a tiny attention span.

“Give me… a minute.” Steve slid his hand down Tony’s front and lightly gripped his hard cock. “Not done yet.”

Tony nodded and pushed up onto his extended arm to let Steve rest on his back a little and cranes his head around for a sidewards kiss. “I’ll give you anything you want, sexy. You know I Latrec on the first date.”

Steve breathily chuckled, then shifted them so that Tony was sitting on him with his back to Steve. “Then give me a show.”

Tony bit his lip and grinned. He loved to feel Steve looking at him. He balanced up on his knees and stretched, then settled down slow with a shift in his hips until Steve was fully sheathed in him again.

Steve groaned, and couldn’t help but grab Tony’s cheeks in his hands and spread them to get a better view of where they were connected. Tony started to move at a steady rhythm, and it still felt so good. Steve let his fingers stray to where his cock was sliding into Tony, and pressed lightly at his boyfriend’s rim. He had a sudden need to get a finger in there too, but now wasn’t the time.

Tony let his spine sway like a charmed snake and moaned a gentle encouragement as Steve indulged in touching him as he moved. Once he had his balance and his rhythm and Steve seemed settled in to enjoy, he let his own hand stroke down his cock. He was so twanging-hard he just wanted to tease himself with light touches that meandered down to behind his balls. He loved to feel how Steve stretched him, how being filled and fucked helped to press his prostate down into a subtle swell that he could feel through his skin.

“Tony.” Steve gasped. “You’re fuck-ing amazing. Beautiful.”

Tony smiled. “And don’t you forget it.”

He took himself a little more fully in hand and did his best to draw out the act to a respectable length before he came. But pleasure, love, and vanity were his favorite cocktail, and it wasn’t long before he was gasping Steve’s name like a plea.

Steve could feel Tony clench around him, and his own orgasm was just out of reach. So he quickly sat up, wrapped an arm around Tony’s waist, and started thrusting up into him with reckless abandon. It was as if his orgasm was taunting him by not finally happening.

“Talk to me.” Steve moaned. “So close…”

Tony nodded and let his head pitch back towards Steve’s shoulder. He felt like his voice was coming right up his center from the taut electrical well that was churning right below his navel, and he breathed words into Steve’s ear in a rapture,

“I love you, oh fuck, I love you. I’ve never wanted anything else, never knew anything like the way you fuck me.” His voice tightened and his brain blurred and all he could do was echo himself over and over. “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…”

Steve’s orgasm hit him like a freight train and he had to bite Tony’s shoulder so he wouldn’t shout. He knew he was gushing into his underwear and onto the sheets, but fuck, Tony wrung the best orgasms out of him. He breathed heavily when he stopped, just barely staving off an asthma attack, and simply held Tony to him.

Tony slowly stopped shuddering and relaxed into Steve’s embrace with a deep sigh. He marveled for a minute at how dry his hand was before noticing the dramatic damp streak across the covers. He wiped at his eyes and chuckled.

“Damn, I think you came _through_ me. I know we put feedback sensors on the inside of your junk, but I don’t think that’s supposed to make me feel like you’re filling me with hot come. And yet. I wonder if that’s a Soulmate thing.” He sighed and shifted as they both relaxed. “I think we might need to do some science at some point.”

“About what?”

Tony shrugged. “Stuff. Dirty stuff. And the quantifiable properties of Soulmate sex. We could get a grant and everything.”

“Unlike Clint, I’m not keen on explaining our sex life to people.” He tightened his grip around Tony a bit. “I like keeping it to ourselves, so that it’s ours.”

Tony sighed. “Ok so we don’t publish. Maybe I just like having sex in a lab coat.”

“Roleplay, maybe. Don’t think we need to spice it up yet, though.”

Tony shook his head. “See, that’s something I don’t get about you normal people. Why would you ever not spice anything up? It’s not like we eat plain mashed potatoes most of the time and only have tacos once we get dangerously bored.”

“Because I’ll come in three minutes if we spice it up at this point. You can record your own data, just minus the lab coat.”

Tony grinned at the bedspread too-proudly. “I already made a scatter plot.”

Steve chuckled. “And I made a bad area chart.”

Tony settled in next to Steve and purred. “Oh yeah, talk data analysis to me, baby. Let’s get non-parametric.”

Steve laughed but shifted Tony off of him fully. As he guessed, there was a large wet spot between his legs, and in his underwear.

“Shit… my spare boxers are down the hall.”

“Clean up and go commando. It’s a party!”

“My vagina is still wet too, Tony. And those khakis are the nice ones you bought me.”

“Want me to go fetch?”

“Please.”

Tony took two minutes in the bathroom to conceal most of the drama, and got his clothes on. He checked down the hall, but no one was looking, and the party was still chattering away breezily just out of sight. He padded down to Steve’s room, grabbed a fresh pair of shorts for him, and returned, dum-dum-da-dumming the Mission Impossible theme song under his breath the whole way.

Steve had managed to wash the packer and put away the harness before Tony showed up. He also got the little velvet box he hid out of a secret spot in Tony’s room. Jarvis promised not to say anything, so Tony had no idea what was in it. As soon as Tony handed him the boxers and he was dressed, he asked,

“Can you sit on the bed for a minute? There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Tony nodded, concerned but not worried. They did usually have a little bit of a conversation after trying anything a little bit new, just to clear the air and give each other notes in an open way. He settled himself on the bed and took a deep breath to open his ears and put down his defensive impulses. Maybe Steve had meant something else when he’d asked Tony to talk him over the edge. It had just slipped out, but he figured if that’s what it was he could try to stay more porn and less valentine in the future. Anything for Steve.

“I know you’re worrying,” Steve started. “But it isn’t anything bad, I promise.”

Tony smiled. “Honestly, I’m not. I actually love this part. I love that you tell me when stuff bothers you. It makes me feel like we’re both invested in trying again.”

“That’s not exactly what I wanted to talk about.” Steve gripped a bit tightly onto the velvet box behind his back. “Tony, you are probably the most amazing man I have ever met. You’re kind, you’re a genius, you find solutions rather than focus on problems too long. When I first drew that sketch of the paint job you wanted… I was scared shitless because I thought some random Stark Industries rep was my Soulmate. Then Bucky told me it was you, and I almost thought about ignoring it. Then we made our mistakes, and we finally met.

“Seeing you for the first time, I wondered how the hell I could be Soulmates with someone as beautiful as that, and then you were actually invested in what I was saying. I knew you would stick around when on our second date, you didn’t care about me being trans. And after everything we’ve been through, from the press to the kidnapping, it feels only right to ask you an important question.” Steve got down on one knee, and held out the box. “Tony, will you marry me?”

Tony’s throat felt too tight to respond. He pressed his lips together and tried to keep his eyes from overflowing. He cleared his throat.

“I, um… could we…” He huffed a laugh at himself, trying to lighten the mood enough to think. “Could we go out and do this in front of the whole party? I mean, I’m going to say yes, I just love the attention and I wanna see Barnes’ face when you say I’m the most amazing man you’ve ever met.” He smiled sheepishly.

A text came in on Steve’s phone, which happened to be on the floor, and he chuckled. “Apparently Nat is recording this via Jarvis. And she insists nothing else.”

Tony laughed. “Well, ok, I guess we can do it like that, then. Yeah, yeah absolutely I’m going to marry the shit out of you. But one condition.”

“And what’s that?”

“The wedding. I get to go waaaaaay too big.”

“No robotic swans flying on cue. That’s where I draw the line.”

“I make no promises. I’m a pretty princess and it’s my special day.”

“You haven’t even seen the ring yet.”

“Well sure. I know it’s perfect. You’re a brilliant designer.”

Steve opened the box, and inside was an adamantium ring (courtesy of Xavier). He took it out of the box, and slipped it onto Tony’s left finger.

“There’s an engraving inside.” Steve said as he sat next to Tony. “It says _‘Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist’_ , because you referred to yourself as that a few times when you were drunk. It was a bit too perfect to pass up.”

Tony smiled and looked at his scarred hand and how it had stopped trembling. “Thank you,” He murmured. “It’s perfect. I have a confession, though.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

He bit his lip. “Probably better if I show you. Come on.”

He stood up and offered Steve a hand to lead him back to the party.

Steve couldn’t help but notice how carefully everyone seemed not to be noticing them as they crossed the floor to the half-car display. Tony leaned over and whispered something to Bucky, who nodded and cleared out without looking at Steve.

“What are you two plotting?”

“Not plotting,” Tony grinned. “Just needed a voice of reason. I have this tendency to go overboard.”

He leaned over the car, pulled a wire from one port and plugged it into another. Lights shone up from the chassis as the lights in the room dimmed, and a disco ball lowered through the ceiling as music started to play from inside the car, just a little grainy for authenticity, some old slow dance from the second world war.

“I won’t give the big speech, but here.” He put a little ring into Steve’s palm as he lead him out into the clear space that had become a dance floor. “You’re the best and you know it, and if I ever stop telling you or showing you for a second, kick me in the head.”

Steve could feel his eyes start to water, and discreetly rubbed them before he put the ring on. It fit perfectly, and he pulled Tony into a tight embrace.

“It’s called vibranium. Fun stuff. On the inside it just says ‘My Hero’. Because you are.” He pivoted to turn Steve’s embrace into an impromptu dance as the rest of the room took the cue to start acting normal again, and the sound of a lot of champagne corks came from somewhere Steve wasn’t looking.

Steve shifted so his arms were around Tony’s neck, and smiled up at him. “Kind of glad I got my proposal out of the way first.”

Tony nodded, “Yeah. Except yours was so good I feel like I should have gone bigger. It’s Barnes’ fault, really.”

“Which Barnes?”

Tony shrugged, “Take your pick.”

“I’ll pick the one that won’t murder me in my sleep.”

“We both can now!” Nat called from the other side of the room.

Tony whispered in Steve’s ear, “Ignore her. All software deveoloped from Jarvis has a no-murder protocol. So Bucky at least can’t murder you southpaw.”

“Glad you have that failsafe in there.” Steve kissed his cheek and laid his head on Tony’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

“You should still probably move in. Just to be safe.”

“We’ll get a separate place. That way you can _finally_ have your work separated from your home life.”

Tony nodded, “What a weird thought. I like it.”

Steve suddenly laughed, a memory came to mind. “Serves that asshole my senior year right. He said I’d never find a husband, just a hooker on a street corner.”

Tony laughed, “Clearly we need a wedding big enough to be covered by the international press. Just to make sure he sees.”

“I figured that’d be a given.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for finishing this story. This may sound egotistical, but if you have any fanart or anything like that, tag me on Instagram or Twitter.  
> Both are @roryqpotter


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